Rise of a Dark Prince
by Minstrel Knight
Summary: Harry Potter's fate was sealed by a prophecy: '... a brother in light, a brother in dark...' Taken by Lord Voldemor -, a visionary leader - as his Apprentice, Harry forges a new identity. HarryGinny, background VoldemortBella
1. Prologue

**Rise of a Dark Prince**

**PROLOGUE**

"My lord," Snape said reverently, bowing before the tall figure. Kissing the hem of the dark robes, he slowly stood up and said in a quiet voice, "There has been a prophecy. Sybill Trelawney, granddaughter of the famous seer Cassandra had an appointment with Dumbledore before me. I overheard a part of it."

"Speak swiftly, Severus," the dark figure said icily, raising a finger to his lips in consternation.

"Pardon, my lord," Snape lowered his eyes and voice. "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches__…__born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... _There was more but I was discovered at that moment."

The Dark Lord stared at Snape with venom. "How do you know it was a true prophecy? That old fool might have suspected your true allegiance and set it all up."

"With your permission, my lord," a deep yet silky voice drawled. The masked figure standing directly to the left of the Dark Lord bowed. Several whispers rose instantly. To interrupt the Dark Lord was a most foolhardy thing to attempt. And yet, Lucius Malfoy could get away with more than the average death eater.

"Lucius," the Dark Lord acknowledged with a wave of his hand, instantly silencing the whispers.

"I received word from my contact at the ministry," Malfoy said in a low voice. "There seems to be an unusual amount of activity in the Department of Mysteries. One of the Unspeakables let slip about a new prophecy concerning the Dark Lord."

The Dark Lord digested the information in grating silence. "Was there any mention of another name? Prophecies rarely concern a single individual alone."

Malfoy shook his head and said, "I am afraid that was all my contact could find out. It is rare for even this much of information to spill out from that specific department."

"Which again makes me wonder," the Dark Lord hissed in an almost serpentine voice, "Is this all a setup? Does Dumbledore expect me to attack the Ministry of Magic in order to get my hands on this prophecy?" He stood up from his throne-like seat and walked up and down the chamber in deep contemplation. With an exasperated intake of breath, he stared at the long rows of masked men and women around him and snapped, "Are you all fools or simply mute? Do you have no thoughts of your own?" Then he stopped in front of one figure in particular and asked, "What are your thoughts, Bella?"

At his words, a thin yet voluptuous young woman bowed reverently. "The prophecy speaks of mere children, my lord. There is no need to attack the Ministry when you could simply identify the families the prophecy speaks of and attack them. It matters not if it's a true prophecy. Those who have defied the Dark Lord deserve to be punished."

The Dark Lord nodded. "You speak wisely, my dear Bella." He returned to his seat and declared, "Married couples who have crossed my paths thrice... I have a spy, hidden from all except my inner most council. This spy is close to several families involved in Dumbledore's Order. I want to be absolutely sure which one the prophecy speaks of. Lucius, Bella, Regulus and Severus… stay. The rest of you leave." He closed his eyes as the masked figure walked one after the other to kiss the hem of his robe before disapparating. When only the few he had commanded to stay were remaining, he opened his crimson eyes.

"You may remove your masks and sit," he said emotionlessly, conjuring comfortable chairs for the four of them in a semi-circle facing him. After the inner council had done as commanded, the Dark Lord looked at the youngest male. "Regulus?"

The death eater nodded. "It has been done as you ordered, My Lord."

"Good," the Dark Lord smiled crookedly. "I hope you faced no trouble on the way back."

Regulus Black lifted his left hand, which was bandaged. "One of the inferi managed to strike me before I neutralized them."

The Dark Lord nodded and turned to Lucius. Removing a diary from within his robes, he sent it flying to the hands of the blond pureblood and said, "Lucius, my old friend, this diary will be our key to Hogwarts when the time comes. Take it and hide it in the depths of your manor. Do not use it! Do not lose it! Do not touch it until I ask for it! Is that clear?"

"Perfectly. You honor me with this privilege, My Lord," Malfoy said, inclining his head in a slight bow.

"Severus," the Dark Lord began coolly, "What progress have you with Dumbledore and his group?"

The young death eater faced the Dark Lord courageously and said, "Dumbledore fell for my ploy. He believes in my remorse. But the others do not trust me. Potter, Black and Moody cannot be convinced."

"Then is there any reason for Dumbledore's belief in you, Severus?" the Dark Lord hissed, focusing his gaze on the death eater. "Perhaps you are truly remorseful. Perhaps I should have punished young Bartemius more severely for having his way with your sister."

Snape looked the Dark Lord straight in the eye and said resolutely, "I serve you alone and am faithful to the cause, My Lord. Emotions breed weakness and there is no space in my heart for such weakness. By not taking the mark, Sarah brought punishment upon herself."

"An answer most satisfactory," the Dark Lord remarked casually. "You may go. Tell Dumbledore an attack is planned on Diagon Alley a week from now. Regulus, you will plan this attack but not participate. This will be a test for the new initiates by which our spy's position will be further cemented. Both of you may leave." As before, the two death eaters approached the Dark Lord to kiss his robe before disapparating.

"Lucius," the Dark Lord looked at the aristocrat. "The prophecy, if it is true, is of great interest to me. Find what you can and contact Wormtail. Speak to none about our spy's identity." Then, closing his eyes, he dismissed his chief lieutenant, "I believe your lovely wife will be awaiting your arrival."

"As you command, My Lord," the aristocrat rose, knowing he was dismissed and did the same as every other death eater before him.

Left alone with the young woman, the Dark Lord rose with a glint of lust in his eyes, "Come, my dear," he said in a hoarse voice while reaching for her hand, "You will be rewarded."

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Severus Snape clenched his fingers as he paced his room. His jaws were tight and his eyes glinted with barely concealed rage. Finally reaching the point of exhaustion, he dropped on his knees and wailed in agony.

"Sarah…" he moaned amidst tears. "Why…" Then, narrowing his eyes in rage, he muttered, "I will get you for this! Every one of you!" Getting up, he wiped his tears and took a few minutes to clear his emotions. Then he walked to the fire and said emotionlessly, "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts!"

Entering the majestic room, he was momentarily startled to see the crowd of people gathered. Apart from Dumbledore and his phoenix, there were the Potters, the Longbottoms, the Prewetts, Black and Moody, each of whom were staring at him with different emotions. Dumbledore regarded him with a smile, while James Potter and Sirius Black sneered at him. Moody narrowed his eyes distrustfully. Lily Potter almost smiled before putting on a neutral mask. The Prewetts and the Longbottoms had expressions ranging from indifference to mild distrust.

Turning to Dumbledore, he stated plainly, "I did as you asked. He believes the prophecy refers to one of them," he beckoned to the assembled families, "but he will wait until he's sure which. He spoke of a spy."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "A spy? What else did he reveal of this spy?"

"Not much," Snape sighed, sitting down. "He is suspicious of your accepting me so easily. Maybe I should have waited longer."

"No, my boy," the Headmaster said seriously, ignoring his spy's chagrin at being called a boy. "There is no time. We cannot allow him to continue this way. Who knows what will happen if he's in power for long."

Then James Potter interrupted, "Albus, what's this about us being targeted? What prophecy?"

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed. "Alas! That is why I have assembled all of you here today. A prophecy was made a few days ago. A prophecy that could refer to some in this room." Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and spoke in a low tone, "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal... a brother in dark, a brother in light... his brother's happiness is the cost of his strength… he will bring an end to the dark era… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_"

There was silence for a few minutes as everyone pondered the mysterious words. Then James Potter rose in anger most of which was directed to the death eater in the room. "But why did you let Sniv… Snape tell him? Have you gone insane, Albus?"

The Headmaster sighed. "Sit down, James. I have merely asked Severus to tell the first few words. Voldemort," he paused as everyone flinched at the name, "does not know that he must mark the child for the prophecy to come to pass. This is the only way we can bring about his defeat."

"But what about our families, Albus?" Fabian Prewett protested. "When you-know-who comes looking for us… how will we hold him back? And how do you even know it's one of us?"

"Lily Potter, Alice Longbottom, and Julia Prewett, not only are you nearing the end of your pregnancy but you and your husbands have faced Voldemort thrice. This is early July and I am certain it is one of you the prophecy speaks of. Even you, Fabian, though you've managed to keep your recent marriage to Julia Armstrong a secret. I am indeed sorry that you are placed in such a situation. All we need is for him to identify the prophesized one. I myself will ensure the protection of your families. The Fidelium Charm cannot be breached."

----------

"Are you certain of this, Wormtail?" the Dark Lord asked with a gleam of triumph.

"Absolutely, My Lord," the stocky man whimpered. "All three families have babies. I heard from Potter himself that Dumbledore believes Jake Potter to be the prophesized one. He said it's because he has a twin. Jake has red hair and Harry black. The prophecy had more to it and talks of a brother in light and a brother in dark. Dumbledore took it to mean literally as well as m-metaph-ph-phorically. Jake Potter is the prophesized one."

"So Severus did indeed miss part of the prophecy. Or perhaps it was planned…" the Dark Lord thought in silence for more than a minute. Finally he turned to the spy and said, "What else did you discover?"

"There's a Fidelius Charm. Dumbledore is the secret keeper. P-Potter also said that the prophecy said his younger son Jake will become powerful but for that his older twin Harry had to suffer. He told me that Harry had to be neglected and p-perhaps he might even t-turn d-dark…" the death eater cowered as the Dark Lord fixed his gaze at him.

"And what were the Potters' reaction to that?"

Wormtail shivered. "Black told me that James shouted for almost ten minutes at the Headmaster and Lily cried but in the end they gave an oath to Dumbledore. For the greater good, he said."

"So the righteous defenders of the light are willing to sacrifice a child's happiness for a mere prophecy?" the Dark Lord laughed uproariously. "Perhaps this can be turned to our advantage. Keep an eye on both of them. You may leave now." He waited as the spy kissed his robe and left before turning to Malfoy and Bellatrix. "Prophecies can be misinterpreted. Perhaps this neglect is what will make him stronger."

"Then it would be wise to eliminate the threat before it grows," Malfoy said in a low voice.

"Do not presume to interrupt me, Lucius!" the Dark Lord said sharply as the aristocrat bowed his head in silence. "The Potter children are not to be touched by anyone. You may spread the word later."

"By your leave, My Lord," Bellatrix spoke with a thin smile.

"Yes, my dear?" the Dark Lord looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Perhaps you will indulge me in allowing me a visit to the Longbottoms… I have some old debts to pay and an old lover to greet," she licked her lips in anticipation.

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. "Spare me the details. You may do as you please but if the Potters appear, then you are to leave. At no cost are you to hurt Lily Potter. You are not to kill the Longbottom heir either. You may go." He waited as the woman kissed his robe and then raised his hand for her to kiss his ring, a sign of favoritism, before she left.

"Lucius, what news of Regulus?" the Dark Lord asked.

"It appears," the aristocrat drawled, "that he has turned against us. He has been seen by three different sources to be in contact with his blood-traitor brother."

The Dark Lord nodded. "He had much promise. You know what to do."

"Yes, My Lord," Malfoy said, getting up.

Left alone, the Dark Lord frowned thoughtfully. After a long silence, he muttered, "Harry Potter."

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	2. Chapter 1

**Rise of a Dark Prince **

**Part 1**

**CHAPTER 1**

"Lily! He's here! Take Jake and go! We'll keep him occupied," James shouted frantically, throwing a portkey at his wife's hands. There was a momentary lull of silence and then all of Diagon Alley erupted in chaos. Lord Voldemort had arrived with his followers.

There was pandemonium everywhere. Masked men levitating innocents and killing at will. The Order of the Phoenix members who were there instantly joined in and intercepted the death eaters before they could reach innocent bystanders.

But instead of obeying her husband's instructions, Lily Potter grabbed his arm before he could join the fray. "I'm not leaving without you, James. Come with us."

"I… I can't, Lils," he said worriedly, clearly torn in two. "I have a duty here."

"Not this time," Lily Potter said firmly, tightening her grip on her husband's arm. "You know why _he _is here. He wants Jake. Let us go."

James opened his mouth to argue but just then, Lily activated the portkey with her hands tightly around her husband and Jake. The three Potters vanished in thin air, none of them having noticed a small boy staring at them expectantly. Their disappearance was noted and a death eater screamed, "The Potters have left!" There seemed to be an instant pause in the battle and several eyes stared at the screaming death eater in shock.

"P-Peter?" Sirius Black cried in disbelief. Then blinded by rage, he was about to charge at his one-time best friend when a hand stopped him.

"Padfoot! Leave Peter! We have to get Harry," Remus Lupin yelled in despair. "He's walking straight to..."

The two watched in horror as a small black-haired boy ran heedlessly away from the battle. His parents had forgotten to take him and scared by the sights and sounds of the battle, he ran to the one place where there was relative peace.

Lord Voldemort stood in the middle of the street observing the havoc created by his men, not deigning to participate himself. Jets of light flashed all around him and yet seemed to avoid him as if in fear of the Dark Lord. His own men knew better than to approach him and the aurors and Order members feared to. He calmly directed the battle from a distance, occasionally punishing some of his men for indulging in disgusting carnal activities in front of him, when he suddenly stumbled. A boy had collided with him.

In one graceful motion, the Dark Lord raised his wand and swished it downwards towards the young boy but stopped on meeting his eyes. Haunting emerald green eyes. Slytherin's colors. Frowning, he noticed the hollowness in his eyes. The emptiness with which he met the older wizard's stare - a lack of respect and a lack of disrespect. It was unusual for the Dark Lord. An innocent gaze. Shaking his head, the Dark Lord suppressed such feelings and raised his wand again. It wouldn't do good to the morale of his men if he allowed the child to live. "Avada Kedavra!"

Lupin and Black stared in shock as their best friend's son fell down limp, at the hands of the Dark Lord himself. Horror and self-disgust rose in both of them and it was as if time itself slowed down. Memories swirled in both men's heads, of how they had forced themselves to neglect and ignore the innocent child on Dumbledore's orders. How they stifled their self-disgust when the boy would run back to his room in tears at being continuously left out. Taking a step back, Black stumbled. Recovering from his reverie first, Lupin noticed the aurors and Order members all falling down or fleeing. This victory was the Dark Lord's. With one last glance at the fallen Potter, he touched his friend's arm and activated his portkey to safety.

Victory was indeed the Dark Lord's. He stood smiling crookedly at the destruction and chaos surrounding him. There were no more fighters. The only people left were his death eaters and their prey. But enough was enough. Everyone there were wizards and witches and hence deserving of some respect. Raising his voice, he bellowed, "We leave now!"

The death eaters immediately stopped whatever they were doing and portkeyed away until the Dark Lord was left alone. He was about to apparate when he heard a noise from behind him. Turning, the Dark Lord's eyes bulged in utter shock. The boy he had hit straight on the chest with a killing curse was stirring. It was impossible. Nobody could survive the killing curse. He stared in disbelief as the boy moved and slowly got to his feet. The boy stood up and looked at the Dark Lord.

"Who are you?" the Dark Lord asked finally after several moments of silence between the two.

"Harry Potter, sir," the dark haired boy said quietly to the strange scary man with the pointy wooden thing.

Several emotions ran through the Dark Lord's head at the same time. Panic, at almost having killed the person he had staged the whole attack for. Disgust, at the common appearance of the boy akin to that of a muggle beggar than a heir to a prominent pureblood family. Relief, at having him in front of him despite hearing shouts that the Potters had fled. And finally, wonder, at his survival. It was a wonder that the very person that he had come for had been left behind, was the very person he had shot a killing curse at, and who managed to survive it. The Dark Lord gazed in fascination at the boy in front of him.

"Are you going to kill me now?"

Despite the situation, the Dark Lord found himself chuckling at the boy's words. Little did he realize that he should have been dead already. "Perhaps. Have you been a good boy?"

The boy turned grief-stricken eyes to the older man and said in a forlorn tone, "I'm never good enough for mummy and daddy. Jake is good." Then he lowered his eyes and stared at his feet. "I'm sorry."

Something kindled in the older man's heart - something that hadn't been felt for decades. The boy's loneliness reminded him of another boy who stood alone in an orphanage several decades ago, someone who for all his loneliness had no family or brother to compare with. Looking down, the Dark Lord almost lowered his wand. But caught himself at the last moment. Pointing his wand at the boy, he whispered, "Legillimens!"

After several minutes, he drew back and took a deep breath. He had seen enough. The boy was neglected beyond belief. What surprised the Dark Lord most was his ability to speak in parseltongue. A smile had formed on his lips when he saw the boy talking to a garden snake which quickly turned to a frown on seeing his father's response to that.

"Does your arm still hurt, boy?" he asked with a modicum of tenderness, something that fell strangely on his lips.

The boy looked at him in surprise. "H-how do you know?" Then he took a step back with damp eyes. "You… you saw it… just now."

"You are a smart lad," the Dark Lord gave a rare laugh in honest joy, marveling the boy's sudden grasp of what had just happened. He didn't look older than six or seven at most and yet he looked with eyes of someone far older. "Your parents had no right to treat you the way they have. Your mother… she should have known better," the man's eyes clouded for an instant but then he gazed at the boy. "If I give you a choice… will you come with me?"

He looked at the man in surprise and a little suspicion. "Why? What will you do to me?"

The Dark Lord sighed and looked around. Seeing no one alive in sight, he whispered, "You'll be my apprentice." Seeing the boy's blank expression on that term, he sighed. "I will teach you all that I know."

"Really? Will you teach me magic?" the boy asked in surprise. "Will I learn like Jake?"

"You will learn more than your foolish brother," the Dark Lord said calmly. "You will become as powerful as Lord Voldemort. You'll be my equal, my apprentice. Let us go now."

The Dark Lord stood up menacingly and glanced around. There was no movement, only corpses. With a glance at the boy in front of him, he flicked his wand, "Incendio!" And then the Dark Lord and the child disappeared from Diagon Alley.

He reappeared in Riddle Manor in the underground chamber, fashioned after the chamber of secrets in Hogwarts. Pushing the boy to a conjured bed, he said firmly, "You will stay here until I return. My familiar will keep you company." Then turning to a cobra that was coiled in a small circle, he hissed, _"Nagini! You will keep my apprentice company."_

"_Very well, massster," _the snake hissed. _"But how can I give company to a man-child who cannot understand me or speak the Noble Tongue?"_

"_I can speak Snake-English,"_ Harry interrupted suddenly, looking at the surprised cobra with interest. _"I'm Harry."_

"_I see, massster," _Nagini hissed appreciatively. _"The serpent-child will be sssafe."_ And she coiled around the young boy's right leg protectively.

Chuckling, a rare indulgence from the Dark Lord and yet for the second time in the same hour, he walked away to the courtyard where his followers had gathered. He nodded on noting that they had all managed to clean themselves and their robes before coming to his presence. But then he had given enough incentive to the last person who had forgotten to never repeat the same mistake ever again. Walking straight to the front, he took his seat and with a flourish of his wand hissed, "Crucio!"

All the death eaters shuffled to see who was feeling the Dark Lord's wrath. It was a short and stocky man whom few had seen before. The Dark Lord kept the curse for more than a minute as the man whimpered and twitched in pain. When he released the curse, the man moaned sickeningly.

"You were to keep yourself hidden," the Dark Lord said icily. "Your friends are now aware of your true allegiance. You are no use to me as a spy anymore, Wormtail." He looked disdainfully at the cowering man and then turned to another. Even through the mask, the Dark Lord could sense a sudden exclamation of disbelief at the revelation of the spy's identity. "Surprised that a marauder would betray their own, Severus?" Seeing Snape bow his head in deference, the Dark Lord nodded, "You own importance has increased vastly to the cause. Stay back after I am done. Bartemius, come forward."

The Dark Lord stifled a cry of exasperation as the young death eater strutted to the front, seemingly convinced of receiving praise from his master. "Crucio!" He held the curse for close to five minutes as the death eater screamed in pain.

"If I ever see or hear of you molesting a pureblood or halfblood witch who has done no wrong, I will personally feed you to Nagini. Get out of my sight," he spat in anger as the trembling death eater bowed in pain and left.

"Today, we were victorious," he began and raised his hand to stop his followers from cheering. "Diagon Alley will remember the might of Lord Voldemort in future. Still, there is much to improve. My most trusted followers, do you not see what we are fighting for? Is death and destruction all you can see?" He took a sharp intake of breath and turned to Malfoy, "Lucius, why do we fight?"

The aristocrat took a step forward and bowing said, "To restore the glory of pureblood families and to bring about Salazar Slytherin's vision of a society ruled by magic."

"And how pray, will we achieve that if you kill members of some of the most prominent pureblood families, Lucius?" the Dark Lord snapped back. "Gideon Prewett! Were you unaware that he is yet to have a son?"

"It was in the heat of battle, my lord. It will not be repeated. I am ready for my punishment," the aristocrat said quietly, kneeling down in front of his master.

The Dark Lord nodded and said coldly, "Crucio!" but lifted the curse in a few seconds. "See that you don't forget. Dumbledore and the Ministry portray us as mindless murderers." He took a deep breath. "But we are more than that. We are the true followers of magic, we believe in it - in the might and supremacy of magic. If being gifted with this incredible power was not an indication of our right to rule and mould the society to a higher order, then of what use is it? Those idiots and blood-traitors in the Order of the Phoenix waste this gift," he narrowed his eyes in disgust and continued, "But we do not fight against them. We merely fight for our rightful place in this world, and any who stand in our way will be removed. But should they stand aside, I will let them live. Lord Voldemort may not be merciful, but Lord Voldemort is not a fool. A wasteland of corpses and blood, that is not the society I intend to rule. There is an order behind the chaos I seek to create. An order more meaningful than the one currently existing." His voice had acquired a power that held the attention of every single death eater but then he gave a slight sigh. "You have all fought well. Rest tonight."

One by one the death eaters left, until Snape and Bellatrix were the sole remaining.

"Severus, my friend," the Dark Lord said, "I need several potions tonight - a healing, a nourishing, a strengthening and a dreamless sleep. Make several vials and send them with your house elf."

"As you wish, my lord," Snape bowed, hiding his bemusement at the strange list of potions, and kissing the hem of his master's robes, left.

"Now, my sweet Bella, what can I do for you?"

"My lord," Bella said hesitatingly. "M-May I stay tonight?"

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow and walked to the dark haired beauty. Tracing a line on her face and neck with his finger, he said, "Why? Is Rodolphus not giving you good company?"

Bella gave a short rueful laugh at that. "My husband," she twisted her face at the word, "prefers the company of Crabbe and Goyle to his wife."

"Then he is a fool," the Dark Lord whispered in her ear, touching her neck with his lips, making her shiver. Then he drew back abruptly. "Not tonight, my dear. I have other business. Go home to that Longbottom child you have taken as your son."

He looked dispassionately as the woman nodded in disappointment and kissing the hem of his robes and his ring, left. Just as she left, a hissing noise came from close by and the Dark Lord turned in anger.

"_Nagini! I told you to stay with the boy!"_

"I'm sorry, Mr. Voldemort, sir," the boy came in view, trembling in fear. "I… I was thirsty and looking for water. Nagini tried to keep me away from here. I'm s-sorry. Don't make me leave. Please." Then he walked to the Dark Lord and knelt in front, eerily similar to the way Lucius Malfoy had done earlier.

The Dark Lord opened his mouth and then closed. A smile formed at the corners of his lips. The boy was willing to face punishment even after seeing its effect on bigger men rather than leave him. Raising his wand, he brought it down at the boy and said, "Obscuro." Blindfolds immediately came over the boy's eyes.

"The next time you disobey me and come to a private meeting, I will leave those blinds on permanently. Finite," he said calmly. "Get up and come here." He waited as the boy came to him and asked, "What is your name?"

The boy looked in surprise. "Harry Potter, sir. I told you ear…"

"Call me Master, and I didn't ask for any additional comments. Obedience, boy," the Dark Lord said in a cold tone, "is the first lesson you will learn from me. I do not tolerate disobedience from my followers and I will not tolerate it from you. If you are to be my apprentice, you will do as I say, when I say. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," the Dark Lord remarked. "Now tell me, boy, should I give you a new name?"

After thinking for a second, Harry nodded. "Yes please, sir."

The Dark Lord regarded the boy curiously. "I don't like your old name. It's too common for someone who will be apprentice. Why don't you like your name?"

"It was given to me by people who don't care for me. I would like a new name from you, sir," the boy said innocently.

The Dark Lord stared and then narrowed his eyes. "And do you think I care for you?"

The boy stared hard at the ground. "I don't know, sir. At least, you talk to me."

The Dark Lord nodded. "Very well, boy. Follow me." He turned around and walked back to the stone chamber underground. With his wand, he created a separate inner chamber, and conjured a king-sized bed, a wardrobe, a mirror and an attached toilet. The room was in black and silver with pictures of dragons and basilisks. "This will be your room. Do you require anything else?"

The boy looked wide eyed at the furniture and with a subtle push of legilimency, the Dark Lord saw the tiny and barren room he used to have. He also saw a desire for a bookshelf with books, something that pleased the Dark Lord. Neglect at the hands of his parents had made the boy turn to books. But though he could read more than what would be expected for one his age it was not enough for the tomes of magical learning that the Dark Lord had.

With a swishing motion, the Dark Lord conjured an empty bookshelf. "Cricket!" he bellowed and a house elf popped in front of them, bowing deep. "Cricket, you will look after the boy. See to his needs. Find out what level of books he can read and bring them for him. You will help him develop his reading, writing, Latin and arithmetic. Severus will be sending his house elf with some potions. Give one each to the boy tonight and keep the rest in a store." Then turning to the boy, he said, "You will tell Cricket of your needs and the kind of books you like. Then you will read until Cricket tells you to sleep. I will see you in the morning. Do you have any preference for a name?"

"Boy will do, sir," the boy said. Then looking at the Dark Lord with glistening eyes, he added, "Thank you."

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Mortimer Thomas Riddle looked disdainfully at the death eater meeting from his vantage point up high. Peering at the death eaters kissing the Dark Lord's robe, the boy turned back in disgust and hissed, _"All that saliva! His robes must be swarming with bacteria."_

"_I know not what you speak of, serpent-child," _a cobra hissed, coiled around the boy's waist. _"But it is time for you to return if you wish to avoid massster's wrath."_

That shook the boy into action. Carefully climbing back and pushing the lose wooden tiles back in place, he quietly crept out and hurried to the inner stone chamber where he was supposed to be reading. Picking up his copy of 'Moste Pontente Potions', he randomly opened a page and peered into it without actually reading the words, just in time, as a soft pop reverberated through the chamber, indicating the arrival of the Dark Lord.

"I see you are working hard on," the Dark Lord glanced at the title and raised his eyebrow, "a fertility potion?" Shaking his head at his apprentice's sudden flustering, he continued, "I should punish you for disobeying me again and eavesdropping." Shutting the tome, he faced his apprentice. "What did you think of today's meeting?"

Mort gave a sheepish grin. "Rodolphus Lestrange and Bartemius Crouch are headstrong will cause problems. Snape is most likely a spy for Dumbledore. Narcissa Malfoy has eyes on replacing Bella by your side. Her husband is aware and not entirely pleased. Oh, and you need to learn a few cleaning charms for your robes."

The Dark Lord pondered on his observations for a few moments before nodding. "It is astounding how deep an insight you have managed to gain on my own followers without ever meeting any of them. I must admit I have had my own fears concerning Severus for quite a while. As it is, he is well placed to spread false information when I most need to. His skills as a Master in Potions is of great use as well."

Mort nodded. "Tell me, Master, when will I be introduced to your… what do you call them," he snorted derisively, "followers?"

"Not until you manage to fully control your metamorphmagi abilities," the Dark Lord snapped in annoyance, "and retain your new appearance without even trying to." He glanced appreciatively at his young apprentice as the boy instantly changed his appearance. His messy dark hair settled in a smooth and lustrous manner and fell until his shoulders. His face narrowed and sharpened until he looked more like his master than his father. His eyes remained the same, though his eyebrows became thicker.

"Then am I to pose as your son?" Mort asked curiously.

"Don't be foolish, boy," the Dark Lord drawled in a monotone, taking a seat. "You are more the age of a grandson to me. However, I am not accountable to my followers. By not explaining your identity save your name I will let them scare themselves with their own conclusions."

As the days passed, Mort discovered his talent and interest in runic magic. It was a rare branch of magic and although the theory behind it was fairly well known, its application was a more daunting task. The Dark Lord had explained it to him that the ancient language of the runes shared the same roots as parseltongue and hence the two of them could understand it better than most other wizards. As such, the Dark Lord encouraged his passion in runes and provided various books on it.

One day, Mort drew a pattern with his wand on a tray of water. On finishing, the pattern glowed silver and faded in the clear liquid. The moment the rune disappeared, colors appeared in the water. Mort smiled. He could see the garden outside, where he had cast a similar rune on a tree. The vision in the water tray was as if somebody were standing outside at the exact spot where the rune was cast.

"Well, this has several possibilities," he muttered, thinking of the ease with which he could spy death eater meetings in the future, not noticing his master's arrival. "If only I find a way to get the sounds as well."

"There is another rune for it," the Dark Lord remarked casually. "But you will have to find it on your own." Then noticing the thoughtful expression on the boy's face, he added, "Something bothering you, boy?"

With a frown, Mort said, "Last week, I saw a group of children of my age in the fields outside. One of them was clearly a Malfoy. I was wondering…"

"If you could join them in mindless activities that are an utter waste of time?" the Dark Lord asked dangerously.

"Basically," Mort said with a nod. "It would also be a means to ensure the loyalty of the next generation of your followers to the cause. I am ten now, Master. For three years, I have completely immersed myself in books on knowledge and strategy. It is time I put them to some practical use."

"Practical use," the Dark Lord muttered thoughtfully. Then raising his voice, he said, "Tomorrow you will be outside the Death Retreat at six in the evening, sharp. Retain your secondary appearance, the one of an ordinary blonde muggleborn." And then he left.

The next morning, Mort stood outside the cave-like structure which hid a palatial inside, where the Dark Lord's followers gathered together to make merry. He had often crept by under disillusionment charms and left in disgust, hearing screams of muggles being tortured. For all his complete support to his Master, he couldn't accept some of the activities of the death eaters.

That day was no different. From inside, he heard a muggle family shouting and screaming in terror as several death eaters laughed in mirth. Mort shook his head in disgust just as he heard voices from inside.

"Barty, what is it, eh?" a rasp voice called out.

"The proximity alarm… follow me," a young and silky voice responded. From the sound that followed, several people followed the two voices.

Mort knew both of them. Bartemius Crouch and Rodolphus Lestrange, two young prodigies according to most death eaters, useless scum according to his Master and his innermost council. Chiding himself for coming too close, Mort frowned. The Dark Lord had given no further instructions to him. If the death eaters weren't expecting him, then they would surely treat him as any other intruder.

"Not good," he muttered under his breath and adopted a ready position, keeping his wand well hidden.

"Who's there? Come on out," a voice drawled, which Mort recognized as belonging to Nott and shuddered. That man was known for his love for slow torture.

"He's here," the high pitched voice of Wormtail, former marauder and spy, came from beside Mort and he turned in dismay to see the rat Animagus. With a quick flourish of his wand, he stunned the death eater but the damage was done. He was surrounded by several dark robed men.

"Well, well, well," Rodolphus Lestrange licked his lips in fervor. "Who do we have here? Boys, looks like we have a new guest for the party."

"Thanks but I'm gonna have to bail on you guys," Mort said calmly, "I'll be leaving now." The death eaters laughed uproariously. Mort recognized Nott, Crabbe and Goyle apart from the other two.

"Mudbloods like you have only one place and that's in front of my wand," Lestrange smirked as he raised his wand and bellowed, "Crucio."

Mort, with his tremendous practice at dodging that very curse from the Dark Lord himself, had no trouble in rolling on the ground and sending a volley of stunners around him.

"So, the pretty boy likes to play, does he?" Lestrange yelled gleefully as he raised a shield to protect himself. Crabbe and Goyle however, weren't as lucky and fell instantly.

Mort didn't wait long. Picking himself up and dodging a few more curses, he rounded on Bartemius Crouch first. He was the weakest of the three left standing. "Stupefy! Reducto! Stupefy! Diffindo! Stupefy! Incendio! Stupefy!" he sent out with good speed and flourish, while dodging a few cruciatus from the other death eaters. He noted Crouch's shield finally give way as his robes caught fire and then fall to a stunner.

"Serpensortia!" Nott yelled.

Mort raised an eyebrow and calmly stopped moving. A cobra flew at him and from his attacker's wand and looked to attack him. Mort almost grinned at the irony of what was going to happen.

"_Stop! Bind that man. Do not bite,"_ he hissed in parseltongue, noting with relish its effect on the two death eaters. Nott was too shocked to observe the cobra turn to him and it was only when the snake was a few feet away did he realize his precarious position. But it was too late, the cobra coiled around him, his wand fallen to the ground.

Now it was just Rodolphus Lestrange and Mortimer Riddle. Both walked in a circle, wands pointed at each other's chest.

"Who are you?" the death eater finally asked.

"Your biggest mistake," Mort hissed evilly, a manner akin to the Dark Lord himself.

"We'll see about that, brat," Lestrange sneered and with a flick of his wand yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light came rushing towards Mort just as he summoned a boulder to intercept it mid-way. Then rounding at the death eater, he whispered in parseltongue, _"Serpensaura!"_ A noxious silvery vapor rose from his wand and rushed towards the death eater who stared at it in confusion but unable to concentrate on the battle anymore. His senses were trapped. All he could see was silver and all he could smell was the foul stench. A loud hissing noise filled his ears and mind and he fell to the ground with his head in his hands. But before Mort could send a stunner at his adversary, footsteps came in hearing range.

"What's going on here?" a silky voice drawled and Mort turned slightly to see Lucius Malfoy observing them. He wasn't alone. Next to him were Bellatrix and Severus Snape. Mort took a deep breath. He was face-to-face with the Dark Lord's most experienced and powerful supporters. Taking charge before Rodolphus could recover, he turned to the blond aristocrat.

"These idiots were under the impression that I would make a suitable substitute to the muggles in whom they seem to have lost interest," Mort hissed in a serpentine voice, startling the death eaters who had just arrived.

"We have been observing for the past few minutes. You fight well," Malfoy said with obvious interest. "Who are you and how do you know of this place?" Malfoy questioned curiously looking around at the limp bodies of his fellow death eaters.

"I am Mortimer," he replied quietly. So not all death eaters were raving lunatics. "I was told to come here." Then looking at his still incapacitated adversary, he pointed his wand at him while raising his other hand to the death eater in peace. _"Finite!" _he called out in parseltongue and the vapor that enveloped him.

Bellatrix meanwhile muttered, "No mudblood could have fought so well. You fool," she roared at her husband as he regained control of his senses, "Did you not think to find out who he was first?"

Malfoy scathingly turned to Rodolphus and snapped, "Have you lost your capacity to think? Only a death eater's child would know of this place. If it had been my son you were dueling, I would personally disembowel you and feed your insides to my dogs."

By then Bellatrix and Snape had approached Mort. Bellatrix was looking at his handiwork appreciatively while Snape removed a minor strengthening potion from within his robes and handed it to Mort. He considered the boy curiously for a few moments. "You appear to be on our side and yet… Who told you of this place?"

"That would be me, Severus," a voice came from a corner and the Dark Lord ambled into view gracefully with a crooked smile. "Mortimer," he nodded at his apprentice in approval.

Seeing his Master appear, Mort transformed into his primary appearance as the Dark Lord's apprentice. All the death eaters were startled at his change of appearance, seeing how closely he resembled their lord. Grinning at the shocked looks on the death eaters' faces, Mort joined the Dark Lord casually and remarked, "Some of your followers seem to think with their groins instead of their heads though there are a few with intellect and honor and I daresay, skills enough to beat a ten year old," he inclined his head at Malfoy, Snape and Bellatrix respectively.

"I was observing all along." The Dark Lord turned to the death eaters who had attacked Mort. "Not only were you drunk and foolish, you failed to overpower a mere child even with greater numbers. I am most displeased," the Dark Lord said coldly to a trembling Rodolphus Lestrange. "Crucio!"

After nearly five minutes, he let go and turned to the other stunned death eaters. Drawing a sharp breath, he flicked his wand, "Rennervate!" Then he turned to the three death eaters who came last. "Follow me," he said and led them to his council room.

"Lucius, Bella, Severus," he acknowledged as they took a seat. "You have pleased me by not degrading to the level of debauchery and decadence of your fellows. For that I shall honor you with the acquaintance of my apprentice, Mortimer." He waited as each of them registered the full implication of his announcement. "You are to address him as Lord Apprentice unless he deems you worthy of a first-name basis. Lucius, Bella, you each have a son of the same age as Mortimer. I have decided that Draco and Neville will be companions to him. Severus will teach all three the art of potion-making and dueling. Is that understood?"

"It is an honor, my lord," Malfoy bowed while Bellatrix gleamed with joy, both staring at Mort curiously.

"Severus, due to the sensitive nature of your role and close contact with Dumbledore, I must do this for the protection of my apprentice," the Dark Lord said casually and with a quick flourish of his wand, "Obscurus! No one will be able to determine this secret from you, not even using legilimency. When are you free from your work in Hogwarts?"

Snape inclined his head. "My lord, I will have my duties in Hogwarts every weekday until evening. I can come to teach the Lord Apprentice and his companions at night and on weekends."

"Then that is decided. Lucius, Bella, you will bring your boys to the manor tomorrow."

The next day, Mort woke up early and completed the work assigned to him by his Master that Cricket the house elf notified him about. He had to read a quarter of a thick tome on ancient goblin runes and prepare a list of practical uses. Mort struggled at first but ended up with identifying two possible uses - one, to create secret doors or compartments for hiding that could only be opened with a specific command. He added a note on using parseltongue so only the Dark Lord and his apprentice would have access. Second, he devised a combination of runes to create a rift in the space-mass continuum. This rift could be used to store a limitless amount of items and would always be accessible anywhere to the person who created it. He would never need to carry trunks again.

After finishing, he had a light lunch with Cricket with whom he had developed a close friendship before walking out to the gardens. Outside, he was greeted by a sight of two boys arguing.

"No, we will play Quidditch," one was arguing. He had blond hair and was elegantly clothed in silver silks that spoke of his aristocratic roots. Mort smiled, knowing him to be the son of Lucius Malfoy.

"Dueling with fake wands!" the other protested. A tall but plump boy with light brown hair scowled at the Malfoy. Mort raised an eyebrow. This had to be Neville Longbottom, orphaned by the woman currently raising him. The Dark Lord had told him of how Frank Longbottom had professed to love Bellatrix Black but broke her heart by marrying the girl his mother had decided for him. She had intended to torture them until they lost their minds but then she had seen Neville and she kidnapped him instead. The boy who should have rightfully been her child.

In his primary appearance as a Riddle, Mort walked out and joined them. Seeing him, both boys instantly stopped arguing. The Malfoy heir bowed to him in flourish and said, "Greetings, my Lord Apprentice! Father sends his regards and hopes for your good health."

Mort stifled a groan of exasperation and shared a grin with Neville who was rolling his eyes at the Malfoy. Turning to the aristocrat, he said icily, "I assume you will be kissing the bottom of my robes next."

"Certainly, Lord Apprentice," Mafoy said, though his eyes narrowed in disgust. He walked closer to Mort and knelt.

"Draco, you know he was just joking?" Neville said with a laugh just before Draco reached for Mort's robes. His words made the young aristocrat look up in chagrin at the disrespect shown by his friend and turned to apologize for his sake when Mort burst out in laughter.

"Get up, Draco," Mort said finally, taking a step back and out of the pureblood's reach. "I'm Mort and ten years old. I don't care how your father treats my Master. But I want us to be friends for now."

"Neville Lestrange, kidnapped heir to the Longbottom estate," the other boy came forward with an amused expression, extending his hand forward.

Mort shook hands with Neville and turned to Draco who was sulking in his spot. "Oh, come on, Draco, I'm sorry," he said affably. "But it was a bit funny." He gave his hand to him next and the boy gratefully took it.

"Father will be displeased," Draco said finally in a small voice. "He told me to show utmost respect to you, Lord App… I mean, Mort." He looked fearfully at the apprentice who merely shook his head.

"Just tell him I told you to call me Mort and expressed a desire to be friends. He will be pleased," Mort said calmly. Lucius Malfoy was scary and ruthless like the Dark Lord but not sadistic or cruel. Above all, he would realize the honor shown by Mort to the young Malfoy. He smiled reassuringly at the boy as he relaxed.

"So, you guys were deciding on what to do, weren't you?" Mort asked after a few seconds.

"Yeah! And Draco wants to play Quidditch. Auntie Bella says it's a waste of time and dueling is more useful! Maybe if we practice enough, we will be the best fighters when we grow up. Or at least, better than some of the halfwits who fight for the Dark Lord," Neville said boisterously and Mort smiled with a sudden realization that he and Neville would become good friends. "Draco is content on being average."

"No Malfoy is average, Longbottom," Draco snarled though without any real malice. "We'll let Mort decide!"

"I have another suggestion," Mort said, grinning crookedly, startlingly similar to the Dark Lord, thought the two boys had no way of knowing that. He had never had friends before apart from Cricket and Nagini and it was a whole new experience. "Have you ever been to a death eater meeting?"

----------

It had been a short and uninteresting meeting so far and the rest of the death eaters had already left. Lord Voldemort sat majestically with a handful of his most powerful followers. Lucius Malfoy was at his immediate right and Bella at his left. Next to Malfoy was Snape and next to Bella a new death eater with his face hidden.

"Do not wonder, my friends," the Dark Lord said calmly. "I asked our new brother to keep his identity a secret. He will replace Wormtail as our second spy among the foolish Order of the Phoenix and will answer directly to me. Now, Lucius, I believe you have something to say."

"My lord," Lucius inclined his head respectfully. "It has come to my attention that several of our number have been voicing their discontent at the slow pace of our conquest. The Lestrange brothers have convinced a small faction that we should have attacked and taken over the Ministry and Hogwarts by now. I fear this faction grows daily in number."

"They are fools," Bella interjected. "My lord, they do not share the same noble ideals that guide us. They only seek to pillage, plunder and destroy, satisfying their own hedonist desires. It would be wise to eliminate this problem altogether."

"You speak truly, my dear Bella," the Dark Lord said coolly. "But we need them. They are the fire with which we will burn the wound that festers our society before providing the correct treatment."

"I fear," Bella said with a sigh, her eyes lowered, "this fire might burn us all some day."

"Not while Lord Voldemort is still alive!" the Dark Lord hissed. "Do not forget yourself, my dear. You know why we have slowed our pace. We need to establish alliances with the other oppressed magical people. The giants, centaurs and vampires prefer to keep apart from human affairs and it would be futile to try and convince them otherwise. But we must have the werewolves and the goblins behind my banner and create a larger presence in other European countries. A day will come when the Dark Mark will be established outside the ministry building and a new order will rise. But we cannot forge this society with only a handful of wizards."

"My lord," Snape said quietly and when the Dark Lord waved his hand in permission, he continued, "It is men like Lestrange and Crouch and their vilifying ways that keeps many purebloods from seeing the true nature of your designs. As long as they are with you, families like the Prewetts, the Zabinis and the Changs will never join our cause."

"And yet," the Dark Lord remarked, "it is Lestrange and Crouch who fight for me and bloody themselves at my request. No Severus, I share your concerns but I will not turn my back on men who have devoted so much to me for others who have as yet despised my very name," the Dark Lord said quietly and yet with enough sharpness to keep anyone from encroaching the topic anymore.

"My lord," the mysterious death eater croaked in an obvious attempt to keep his voice a secret, "Jake Potter goes to Hogwarts this September."

This caught Mort's attention and he immediately stiffened, an action not unnoticed by Neville though Draco was peering eagerly at the assembled men. Mort drew back slightly, shaking his head slightly as Neville raised an eyebrow. Focusing his attention back on the meeting, he heard the Dark Lord speak.

"What can you tell me of the boy? Is he the hero everybody wants him to be?"

"He is a true Gryffindor, my lord," the mysterious figure said. "He is courteous and courageous to a fault but he is rash and narrow minded. He shows signs of potential, enough to be a valued member of this assembly if he could be convinced but there is nothing spectacular about the boy to set him apart from others like the Headmaster hoped."

"What of his brother?" the Dark Lord asked emotionlessly. "I heard he had a twin."

The figure lowered his head. "The twin died several years ago, at your own hands during the attack on Diagon Alley. I daresay you might not recall but a young lad ran into you. Back and Lupin were witness to your hitting him with the killing curse. The family had been distraught for a while. It appears Dumbledore had convinced them to neglect and mistreat the poor boy, a shameful act for any parent no matter the reasoning behind it. Lily Potter didn't speak for several months while James took to drinking and quit his job as an auror. It was only the birth of another child that ended the Potters' misery."

The Dark Lord nodded thoughtfully, shooting an upwards glance at the exact position where Mort was concealed with his friends. Draco and Neville recoiled instantly but Mort held his place, unconcerned. If the Dark Lord had really intended to keep him from listening in, he would have made it impossible for him to return to the same place time after time.

"Another child?" he finally questioned the death eater with interest.

"Yes, my lord," he said. "A daughter named Emily."

"Severus," the Dark Lord turned instantly to the spy. "You have cause for enmity with James Potter. Take it out on his son, nothing to harm the boy but enough to determine his exact potential and personality. If Dumbledore wants you to stop, convince him that you are trying to prepare the boy for his future challenges. You may go to the inner chamber and await my apprentice's arrival." Turning to Bellatrix, he said, "Stay, my dear. The rest of you may leave." After the death eaters departed one after the other, the Dark Lord turned to the woman and said, "Your son will be staying until late. You may both stay here tonight."

"My lord," the woman smiled gleefully, getting up and kneeling before the Dark Lord.

----------

"Eww!" Neville exclaimed as he saw the Dark Lord and Bellatrix locked in a passionate kiss. "Let's go, Mort!"

"Yes, Snape would be waiting for us," Mort said as he pulled back the tiles and walked out, followed by his two new friends in complete awe of what they had just witnessed. "Remember, you cannot tell anyone that we saw this. This is our secret," he smiled as the two boys promised solemnly. Sharing a common secret, he knew, was one of the easiest ways of developing close friendship.

He led the two boys back into the manor and to the chamber where guest awaited the presence of the Lord. Severus Snape was standing patiently inside and on seeing the Apprentice, bowed deeply.

"Lord Apprentice!" he said respectfully.

Mort stifled an exclamation of annoyance and smirked at Draco who was rolling his eyes. Turning to Snape, he said, "You will be our teacher. It would not be proper for you to bow before me," he said with a small bow of his own. "My name is Mortimer Riddle and I am also known as Mort. I shall let you choose what to call me. How should we address you, sir?"

Snape regarded the boy with a raised eyebrow. He had expected to be treated as a lowly servant, the way a pureblood prince like Draco would treat his house elf but the apprentice completely surprised him with his maturity and respect for authority. He was further shocked to see Draco grin back at him. He knew that the boy's father had given him strict orders to behave as a proper pureblood in the presence of Mortimer. To act so freely implied that his new friend must have drawn him out of his mask. The heir was full of surprises for him. Looking at him, Snape gave a rare smile. "I am Severus Snape, the Potions Professor in Hogwarts. I am also Draco's godfather and he calls me Severus. It would honor me if the two of you also use my first name." Soon after, all of them were in the room specially assigned for their private lessons and Snape started lecturing them on the basics of Potion making, an art that he cherished.

"All of you have been instructed sufficiently by your parents or guardians on this art. You know how to make basic potions but do you understand the principles behind it? What happens when Boomslang skin is mixed with Monkswood, for instance? Or why a potion must be stirred in a specific manner. There is a deep reasoning behind it and I will teach you… Do you understand what I am trying to say? Mortimer?"

"Sir," Mort began, "I have read a few books on muggle Chemistry. They talk about reactions between specific compounds and elements such as iron or oxygen. Is that what you mean?"

"Precisely," Snape said with sudden vigor. "For all their faults, muggles have developed a keen understanding of the world with their sciences." Looking at Mort with renewed interest, he added, "If you know even the basics of chemistry, this is going to be an easy subject for you."


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews. To answer a question - No, Harry/Mort will not start killing people randomly. Even my Voldemort doesn't do that. They are dark, yes, and they seek to supplant the Ministry, but there is an order behind their madness.

**Rise of a Dark Prince**

**Part 1**

**CHAPTER 2**

The weeks turned into months and the three boys became fast friends. There was nothing they wouldn't do together - eat, study, play, train, although Mort had his own private hours with the Dark Lord. So when it came for Draco to go to Hogwarts, Mort became sullen in mood. The Dark Lord had specifically forbidden him from entertaining any thoughts of going to the school. And although it helped assuage Mort's sullenness that Neville would be staying back with him due to his sensitive status as a kidnapped heir, he had greatly desired to peruse the tomes of knowledge in the castle library and in Slytherin's personal chamber.

"Your future is with me, Mort," the Dark Lord had said in a rare use of his shortened name instead of Mortimer or referring to him simply as boy. "Hogwarts will stunt your growth and knowledge. I cannot afford that. Do not fret, boy. Neville and Bella will be moving to the Manor permanently. You will have everything you desire." The next day, the Dark Lord ordered Snape to supervise Mort and his companions in making the Animagus revealer potion, something all three boys had desired for a long time.

"Are you an Animagus, Severus?" Mort asked, while stirring the faint cream colored liquid.

The Potions Master looked up in surprise. Even after nearly a year, the boy could surprise him with sudden questions like these. Snape had been a lonely and friendless child. Even as a man, he had allies but no friends. The eleven year old apprentice of the Dark Lord however, seemed to treat him just as he did Neville or Draco. And for some reason, Snape felt oddly at peace with that.

"I took the potion," he said calmly. "But my form was revealed to be a fish. An eel, to be precise. I didn't see a need to master the transformation afterwards."

Mort nodded. "I wouldn't want to either, if I turned out to be a purely water animal. But somehow I think I wont. I feel myself at my best when I'm flying. I think I will be a bird of some kind."

"You will find out soon enough," Snape remarked as he returned to correcting the essays of his students from Hogwarts.

Not much later, all three had finished making the potion and Snape examined it for a few seconds before declaring, "It is adequate. You may take a vial each."

The boys didn't need a second invitation to dip a vial into the potion and gulp it past their throats. Snape looked at them in mild annoyance. "Don't act like foolish Gryffindors. The potion isn't running anywhere."

Mort was the first to regain composure. He tilted his head acknowledging the Potions Master's rebuke just as he entered a trance. Severus sighed. A look at his watch indicated it was nearly seven. With any luck, all three would have regained consciousness before eight so he could get to the Order meeting later that night. He still hadn't been able to find a way to overcome the Dark Lord's block on him regarding Mort. Dumbledore and his crew had no idea about the Dark Lord's apprentice. Frank and Alice Longbottom had finally overcome their grief over the loss of their son and were unaware of Neville's survival. But the more time Snape spent with the boys, the more relieved he felt about the block placed on him. The boys, especially Mort, were the anchor the Dark Lord needed to keep from getting lost in the madness of his followers. With a sigh, Snape leaned back and picked up another essay by his fifth year students and read it with little interest.

Sure enough, it took nearly an hour before the boys started rousing. Draco was the first. He woke up with a big grin and turned to his friends both of whom were still in the trance. Snape looked at his godson in pride. All his fears were turning out unfounded. Draco was no longer the spoilt pureblood prince he had been brought up to be and with a start, Snape realized that this also was a direct influence of the Dark Lord's apprentice. At the same time, he hoped fervently that the change in his godson wasn't enough to deny him a place in Slytherin. A Malfoy wouldn't survive anywhere except in his House, or perhaps under Flitwick in Ravenclaw.

Just then, Neville woke up and Mort began stirring. A few seconds later, all three were up and grinning stupidly at each other. Snape lost his patience.

"Are you going to continuously stare at each other with the intellect of a decomposed flobberworm or will you start talking?"

Draco grinned. "Crocodile. He said I'm a reptile in nature, not as cunning as a snake but rather more aggressive." He gave a mock bow as Neville and Mort clapped appreciatively.

Neville was the next. He said, "I'm a wolf. A creature of earth, he said, and loyal to my pack."

Mort whooped in delight. "I'm an eagle. The extinct New Zealand Eagle to be precise, the size of a wolf but with wings. We're natural allies." Neville grinned back at him and Mort wondered how little time it had taken for Neville to have completely won his confidence. Perhaps it was because they were both from similar situations.

"You have done well, boys," Snape said appreciatively. The Dark Lord would be pleased with this development. His apprentice would have an alternate means of escaping in pressure situations. "But I must remind you that it will take at least a year, perhaps two, for you to master the transformation." Then turning to Mort, he said, "There are no recorded cases of a metamorphmagus attempting Animagus transformation. I suspect it will be easier for you. And you might be able to change the shape, size and color of your animal form as well. The Dark Lord will be pleased."

The Dark Lord was indeed pleased with the news and he allowed Snape to kiss his ring in front of all his followers the next day. But when he returned to the inner chamber of his apprentice to see his progress, he was astounded. An eagle of mammoth proportions was flying around heedlessly. Seeing him, the eagle landed on the floor and transformed into his apprentice.

"Good evening, Master," Mort said with respect. "Severus was right. Animagus transformation is essentially similar to a metamorphmagus transformation."

"I am pleased, Apprentice," the Dark Lord hissed as he transformed into a cobra, similar to Nagini but larger and scarier. Returning to his natural form, the Dark Lord said, "It took me the whole of my sixth and part of my seventh year in Hogwarts to achieve this. I am proud of you, Mortimer." Then noting his apprentice's thoughtful expression, he asked, "Is there anything bothering you, boy?"

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master," Mort fumbled trying to find the right words. Finally, he said, "That day in Diagon Alley… why did you want to kill me?" He lowered his eyes, afraid he had offended his master. But when he looked looked up, he blinked in surprise as the Dark Lord began laughing in mirth. He had never heard the Dark Lord laugh in mirth. The Dark Lord never laughed in mirth. At best he gave a slight chuckle. "Master…" Mort said, suddenly scared.

The Dark Lord controlled himself and said, "I never intended to kill you, boy. Far from it. The sole purpose of the attack was to take you away from your parents. There was a prophecy."

"A prophecy, Master?" Mort asked in bemusement.

The Dark Lord nodded. "I do not know the full words but it was foretold a child would be born with the power to vanquish me. His happiness would be the cost of his brother's. Dumbledore thought your brother was the one and convinced your family to neglect you."

Mort's eyes widened. Taking a deep breath, he said, "So that's why. I used to often wonder what I had done to deserve the treatment I received."

"Do you still wonder, boy?" the Dark Lord asked sharply.

"I am indeed curious, Master," Mort said with a frown. "But do not take my curiosity to mean anything more than what it is."

The Dark Lord looked at him intently for a minute and then nodded. "I didn't agree. Prophecies have a tendency to be misinterpreted. I knew you were neglected by your family and… there are some things I cannot tell you yet, but I decided to take you as my apprentice. When I hit you with the curse, I knew not who you were."

Mort registered his Master's words in silence. "You came to rescue me," he said quietly and shook his head as the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes and started to protest. "You cannot fool me, Master, not anymore. Why?"

"One day you will know, Apprentice," the Dark Lord said sharply. "I do not wish to burden you with that knowledge yet."

Mort nodded, accepting the honest answer. Then he frowned. "You think I'm the one with the power to… _vanquish_ you? And you're okay with it?"

"Men should not pretend they understand the subtleties of prophecies," the Dark Lord drawled, "Especially one they do not fully know. Having the ability to do something and to do it are two completely different things. Do you wish to vanquish me, Apprentice?"

"No, Master," Mort flushed. "I'm eternally grateful to you for everything you have done. Y-You have been like a father to me."

The Dark Lord didn't reply but shifted his attention to the assignment he had given his apprentice on blood runes. After a few minutes or frowning, he nodded. "This is a good use of Blue Fire as a blood rune. But I do not want you to experiment with it. Use it only in the most desperate of situations. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master."

----------

"Boy, it is time for you to have your own wand," the Dark Lord said one day as he worked on a slice of toast. Master and Apprentice were in the dining hall of Riddle Manor having breakfast. Bellatrix and Neville, although staying in the Manor and almost a part of the family, weren't morning people, and breakfast was usually a private moment for Master and Apprentice.

Mort smiled, looking at his current wand. It was an extra wand the Dark Lord had picked up from one of his earliest victims. But it wasn't about the wand but rather the gesture itself that made Mort smile, it being the thirty-first of July, Mort's twelfth birthday. The Dark Lord never acknowledged his birthday specifically, but in some small way made it clear that he was aware of it.

With an inclination of his head, Mort responded, "Thank you, Master. Will I be going to Diagon Alley on my own?"

"Don't be foolish, boy," the Dark Lord said casually. "Lucius will take you with Draco and Neville. I dare not let Bella make a public appearance. The Aurors will take her." Bellatrix and the Dark Lord had transcended the realm of lovers into something more serious. It was fortunate that Rodolphus considered it a blessing for Bellatrix to leave the house as he could focus on his own activities uninhibited, but the Dark Lord no longer kept his relationship with the woman a secret.

"What about Lucius, Master? Why is he still able to make public appearances?"

"Lucius is as slippery as an eel and can buy his way out of anything. He is also the most careful of my followers and although many suspect his allegiance, there is no proof. The Malfoy name still holds enough clout to keep even Dumbledore's suspicions amount to nothing more."

"I don't understand, Master," Mort asked with a frown. "If the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot suspects Lucius, then why can't he simply put him on trial."

"Think of the repercussions, boy. If someone as prominent as Malfoy is put into trial, then no pureblood will feel safe," the Dark Lord said patiently. "You must understand, there are several who might not agree with my vision publicly but hold private support in the back of their hearts. Under trial by veritaserum, their true feelings will be revealed and they cannot afford that. It is they who keep some of my less careless followers out of trouble and this is how they contribute to the effort without adorning the Death Mask."

"About the mask, Master," Mort asked suddenly. "Forgive my impudence, but why choose something as revolting? And why the name, Death Eater?"

"When I began, boy," the Dark Lord said. "I had noble visions. Death was accepted as a means to achieve that vision, and not just for those who stood against us. By adorning the Death Mask, my followers embrace death. It is my way of making them accept that in following me, they might very well be walking to their deaths."

"I think I understand, Master," Mort bowed respectfully.

And so Mort and his companions found themselves in Diagon Alley. Mort looked around with a contented smile. This was the place where he found his own, his true place in the world. Unwittingly, he walked to the exact spot outside the Leaky Cauldron where he had first encountered the Dark Lord and smiled. This was where Harry Potter had died and Mortimer Riddle was born. He hadn't noticed Neville follow him and stare at him intently.

"What's up with you, Mort?" Neville asked curiously. "What's so special about this place?"

Mort suddenly schooled his expression and turned to his friend. "Neville, you are like a brother to me. There is no one else I'd rather talk to but I am not yet ready. Someday I will be… and then I'll reveal all my secrets to you."

Neville nodded. "I'll be waiting then, brother." He looked away when Mort's eyes dampened. "Let's get back to Flourish & Botts before Draco bankrupts his father with Quidditch stuff."

Mort and Neville returned to see Lucius Malfoy in a verbal argument with a red haired man while Draco was engaged with some children of their age. Mort stopped instantly on seeing their faces. Even after five years, he could easily recognize his twin brother, Jake. He had the same curly red hair and the same freckled face. He and a cute red-haired girl next to him appeared to be in rage at something Draco had just said. Mort shook his head in exasperation. Draco was a dear friend of his but he often allowed his tongue to run out of control. Exchanging a look with Neville, both walked to their friend.

"I'd burn my tongue with Pure Fire if I were you, Malfoy!" Jake Potter spat in anger.

Mort raised an eyebrow and walked next to his friend. "It's a good thing you're not him then, isn't it? Draco, have you been insulting people again?" he asked calmly and saw Draco's fury evaporate into a rather sheepish grin.

"It's only mudbloods and blood traitors," he protested half-heartedly.

"Please, Draco! I have told you not to use that word in my presence," Mort said with an exasperated look and turned to his twin brother. Jake Potter was standing flanked by two redheads, the girl from earlier and a boy who appeared to be her brother, and a bushy brown haired girl. "Good morning, I am Mortimer Thomas," he said coolly, knowing that using the Riddle name would certainly raise questions in Dumbledore's mind.

The two boys looked at him suspiciously but the brown haired girl responded almost instantaneously. "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger. This is Ron Weasley and his sister Ginny. And that's Jake Potter."

"Neville Thomas," the other boy said in a flash of inspiration. "We are brothers."

Mort turned to the brown haired girl. Draco had spoken in length about all of them. Hermione was one of the top students, much to the blond pureblood's chagrin. "Granger… I suppose you're muggleborn? How do you find the transition?"

The girl looked at him in surprise. At first, when he voiced his question about her being muggleborn, all four of them had turned defensive but his subsequent question had thrown them off balance. "I… I suppose it's a novel experience… almost magical… sorry about the pun. I actually can't describe," Hermione said in a flustered tone.

"I think I can understand. I felt the same when I discovered books on muggle science. I'm really passionate about physics and chemistry although I can't bring myself to care for biology. Magic could do so much more when one understands the laws that govern motion and movement and electromagnetic fields, or the chemical reactions of different materials. Do you miss studying the sciences?" he asked curiously.

Hermione gaped at him in surprise. "Wow! I take it you're a pureblood," she smiled when Mort nodded. "And you not only know what science is but you seem to be knowledgeable in it. I am impressed. Well, I do read as much as I can during the summer, which isn't a lot, but still I manage to keep in track."

Mort nodded, ignoring the bored exclamations from Draco and turned to the pretty young redhead. "Hi, Ginny! I'm truly sorry for any insults from my friend here. How do you like Hogwarts? I've always wanted to see it."

"I-I'm a first year," the girl said shyly. "I haven't been there yet. How come you've never seen Hogwarts? Are you a first year too?"

"No. My brother and I are home schooled," he said, but was distracted by a sound from behind him. Turning, he saw Lucius Malfoy and a red haired man engaged in a fist fight. Sighing, Mort turned to Neville and Draco and said, "I guess we should go and stop this before it turns ugly." With a final look at his twin brother who ignored him, he turned to the girls and said, "It was nice meeting you, Hermione, Ginny. I hope we meet again in the future."

He walked to the adult Malfoy, followed by his two friends. The aristocrat was in the process of hitting the other man, probably the Weasleys' father, with his stick, when Mort interjected, "Mr. Malfoy!"

Malfoy stopped in bemusement and turned to Mort. His eyes widened as the boy met his gaze coldly and realized his attracting attention would displease the Dark Lord immensely. Turning to Weasley, he threw his daughter's transfiguration book back with a biting comment about their family's wealth.

Malfoy quickly removed himself from Weasley's presence after his insult and Mort was pleased. From the corner of his eyes he observed that the adult Potters were fast approaching the book shop and though a part of him wanted to stay and see his sister, he realized it would be safer for him to just leave. So, the three friends and Lucius Malfoy walked to Ollivander's. Both Mort and Neville needed new wands.

When they appeared, the shop seemed to be empty but Mort felt a presence creep up behind him and by reflex whipped out his wand and with a flick of his wrists said, "Stupefy!" He smirked when he saw the old wand maker fall limply to the floor. Lucius Malfoy looked at him with raised eyebrows while Neville and Draco grinned. Both the boys knew how sharp Mort's senses were and how seriously he took his training.

Malfoy shook his head and pointed his wand at Ollivander and said, "Rennervate!" and sneered as the wand maker roused. "I would thank you not to sneak on us, Mr. Ollivander."

"Yes, yes, certainly, Lucius Malfoy," the wand maker gushed. "Elm, eleven inches and dragon heartstring. Yes, yes, extremely good for defensive and offensive spells." Then he turned to Draco, "Birch, twelve inches and unicorn hair. Very good for transfiguration." Looking at Neville and Mort, he frowned. "I assume the two of you are here for wands."

"Yes," Mort said, tired of the wand maker's antics, "And we would thank you to just give it to us without much further ado."

The wand maker nodded. "You already have a wand. I take it that it's an old family wand?"

"Something like that," Mort shrugged.

Noticing his irritated disposition, the wand maker started testing wands with Neville first. The fifth wand he tried, worked perfectly for him. But Mort wasn't as lucky. After nearly an hour and exhausting most of the wands in the shop, the wand maker rushed inside and came out with an ebony wand.

"Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather," he said with rasping breaths. "I had thought… never mind, give it a wave."

Mort took the wand and instantly silver and gold spark shot out. He smiled. The wand felt better than any of the other practice wands he had used so far. The wand belonged to him.

"Curious," the wand maker said mystically. "Really curious." He turned his gaze from Mort to Lucius Malfoy and then back to Mort. Squinting his eyes, he said, "Tom Riddle… Yew, thirteen and half inches, phoenix feather. You look like him."

With a frown, Mort pointed his wand at Ollivander ominously. "What about it?"

"The wand you're holding," he replied with a wary glance at the wand pointed at him, "is brother to his."

Conversation came to a standstill with that comment as all parties involved were painfully aware of the alternate identity of Tom Riddle. Mort looked cautiously at Malfoy who quickly paid the gold and took the boys out and without any further delay returned to Riddle Manor.

"What does it mean, Master?" Mort asked the Dark Lord curiously after narrating the events of the day. "Our wands being brothers."

The Dark Lord stared at Mort for a few moments before speaking, "Power, boy, is a direct indication of your wand. We are the only two parseltongues in existence. It is not so unlikely that our wands be similar."

"But that's not it!" Mort protested but seeing the Dark Lord's expression turn colder, he inclined his head. "I apologize, Master. Brother wands indeed show similarity between their wielders but parseltongue is hardly sufficient to create this level of similarity."

"Then I cannot tell. Perhaps the day I hit you with the killing curse, a connection was forged between us."

"That must be it," Mort said reluctantly.

"I want you to attend the Minister's Gala," the Dark Lord said suddenly, surprising his apprentice. "It is in celebration of a year of peace. You will go with Severus Snape as a distant cousin. Keep your eyes open for anything interesting."

"A gala, Master?" Mort asked with shining eyes. "Will there be a duel contest?"

"Yes, but only Aurors will be taking part to build confidence in people. Do not entertain any thoughts of participation."

Mort shook his head. "A year of peace. If only they knew the progress you've had in Ireland and France, and with the werewolves."

"I see you have successfully discovered a way to spy on my meetings from the comfort of your practice chamber."

"Yes, Master. The rune for getting sounds was hard to find and complicated to attempt on my own. Neville helped me." Mort pointed his wand to a mirror nearby and activated the rune. Instantly, several colors swayed within the mirror and the reflecting glass panel darkened until it showed the chamber where the Dark Lord held his meetings. It was empty.

"We cannot hear anything right now, but it works," Mort explained. "If we could get Severus to make the runes in Dumbledore's meeting place…"

"Don't be foolish, boy," the Dark Lord snapped. "And do not ever underestimate Albus Dumbledore. He is more cunning than the slyest Slytherin and more knowledgeable than the most hard-working Ravenclaw."

"Slytherin? I thought his followers believe him to be the epitome of Gryffindor," Mort asked in surprise.

"No Gryffindor would have been able to secure the complete allegiance of a werewolf and a half-giant the way Dumbledore has. No, Apprentice, be wary of the old man. He is cunning. You could even say that he used my vision as an excuse to portray me a cruel killer even before I was one, merely to create an illusion of an adversary against whom he would defend the country."

"You're saying… Dumbledore created Voldemort?" Mort asked in complete bafflement.

"Are you purposefully trying to act dumb today, boy," the Dark Lord hissed. "He didn't create me! What he did was to leave me with little choice but to pursue the path I took in order to follow my vision."

"The perfect Slytherin," Mort mused with a growing smirk. "To be accepted by Gryffindors as one of them."

----------

The next day, Mort was dueling with Snape, who had been in a foul mood. Neville had been taken away by Bella for some private work and Harry was annoyed as he had to face Snape's foul mood alone. To his further annoyance, he had lost once already.

"Keep your wand at ready always," Snape instructed as he returned to the duel ring. "It is no wooden stick that you carry, but a living and breathing part of your own hand. Feel it, become one with you. Let the magic coarse through your veins and feel it release from your hands, and not some mere wooden stick. When you leave this practice chamber, your wand is your life. Lose it and you are dead."

After another short duel which Snape won with ease, he rebuked the apprentice harshly, "Stop fighting like a Gryffindor and use your brains, if you have any. You put too much trust in your shield and are content to let your opponent make the first move. How will you defeat anyone if you continue like this?"

"In case you have forgotten, Snape," Mort hissed in sudden anger. "I faced five of your fellow Death Eaters and emerged victorious. I could beat you."

There was silence. The Potions Master regarded the Apprentice with an icy look and simply said, "Defeat me, then." And the duel started anew.

Both started shooting curses with renewed vigor. After nearly ten minutes, _"__Serpensaura!__"_ Mort hissed and a silver mist shot out of his wand. It reached for Snape, who at the last moment levitated himself up and shot a stunner at Mort.

"Forgive me, Master Snape," Mort said respectfully after being roused. "I was over confident and wrong."

"I apologize for my less than jovial mood as well," Snape said, passing a goblet of water to the boy. "You have potential and talent. Do not squander it with over confidence. The Death Eaters you faced were drunk and expected no resistance from you. They underestimated you and they lost. Do not make the same mistake."

Mort lowered his head. "I will try not to." After a minute's silence, he asked, "Why do you do it?"

"What do you mean?" Snape asked in bemusement.

"Why do you pretend to be a Death Eater? You don't like it, I can see that," he regarded his instructor intently. "You spy for Dumbledore though you don't want to. Why don't you just stop? Why don't you leave both sides and lead your own life?"

Snape recoiled in surprise. "What do you mean? I am loyal to the cause."

Mort shook his head. "Loyal to the vision as it once was, perhaps, but not to the people. You despise Crouch and Lestrange, it is clear. I saw the meeting today. Crouch's taunts affected you. I am curious. Why?"

Snape got up from his seat with a sharp breath and turned, his robes billowing around in a swooshing motion. He took a step towards the door but then stopped and turned back to the young apprentice. "I once had a sister."

Mort nodded with a sigh. The past tense spoke volumes. "So you have turned to Dumbledore to seek vengeance against…"

"Crouch," was the simple response.

"Crouch is a fool - a viper that will attack the very hand that feeds it. The Dark Lord should not put such faith in him and his companions. But do you know what I think?" Mort waited as Snape looked at him curiously. "I think you are the bigger fool."

"What?" Snape asked in shock.

"To throw away everything you believe in… for revenge? The Dark Lord needs you, Severus! People like you keep the balance! The society which we create, of what use is it if men like Lestrange are given free reign."

"I… I don't know what to say," Snape looked in honest confusion at the boy. He had half expected the Dark Lord to have appeared instantly at his confession on spying for Dumbledore but the tone of the boy's voice was completely unexpected. What was even more unexpected were his next words:

"An alliance."

Snape blinked. "An alliance?"

"An alliance, Severus," Mort said quietly, "between you and I."

Snape's eyes widened and his eyebrows nearly reached his hairline. In a quivering voice he asked, "Do you speak treason?"

Mort shook his head. "No, not against the Dark Lord for we both support him and his vision. I propose an alliance to work together in preventing that vision from being corrupted by the less savory of his followers."

"I must think."

"Think all you want but do not take too long. A feeling of impending doom has been cowering me lately."

----------

Dumbledore was pacing his room. The century and half old wizard was worried. Sure, the war against Voldemort was going in their favor now, with several low key Death Eaters in Azkaban and little news of Voldemort being actively involved in Britain. It appeared as if the Order of the Phoenix had done its job admirably and pushed the threat of darkness away. At least, for the time being. But Dumbledore had received several missives within the course of the same week that greatly troubled him.

Grabbing some floo powder from his desk, he rushed to the fireplace and threw it in, yelling, "Severus Snape!" The fire cackled and turned green, before Snape's face came in view.

"In my office, Severus!" He waited for the man to emerge from the fireplace and then repeated his earlier motion while calling out, "Alastor Moody!" He did the same for Fabian Prewett, Frank Longbottom and James Potter.

After all four men had appeared, Dumbledore motioned them to take a seat. "How are things with you all? Lemon Drop?"

"Cut to the point, Albus," Moody roared. "We all know you didn't drag us here to exchange pleasantries."

"Very well, Alastor," Dumbledore twinkled brightly at the gathering. "The Ministry Gala will be an event to remember! I trust you all will be participating? Good! As I was saying, things are going wonderfully well for us. We couldn't hope for much better."

"We could!" Moody snapped. "We could hope for having the rest of those Death Eaters and their snake-faced master carted away to Azkaban! Or better still, we could hope for their entrails to be…"

"Alastor," Dumbledore warned gently. Turning to the group again, he said, "However, I have received some worrying news." He paused as everyone became more attentive before continuing, "Ollivander sent me an Owl. The brother wand has chosen its master."

"You Know Who's brother wand? But… but Albus, you had said it would be useful for Jake to have that."

"So I thought, James, my boy," Dumbledore said heavily. "After Jake failed to make it respond, I didn't think anyone would be able to claim a strong connection to Voldemort and use the wand."

"So, who's got it now?" James asked curiously. "I'm sure if we explain it properly, they would be more than happy to lend it to us."

Dumbledore sighed. "I am afraid it is not so easy. Apparently, a boy walked in with Lucius Malfoy to Ollivander's a few days ago. He has the wand."

"I see why that can be a problem," Snape muttered sarcastically.

"That, however, is not our biggest worry. Ollivander seemed extremely agitated for the boy reminded him of another boy he had sold a wand to more than fifty years ago - Tom Riddle."

"You mean… You Know Who? He has a son?" Frank Longbottom asked in surprise.

"Or a grandson," Dumbledore replied. "Severus, were you aware of this?"

"I am unaware," the Potions Master said, "of any boy who might be related to the Dark Lord in any capacity whatsoever."

"He lies!" James yelled angrily.

"James!" Dumbledore raised his hand in warning. "Severus, are you sure? Perhaps he wears a Disillusioning Charm when other's are present."

"I am certain, Albus," Snape said, looking clearly into the Headmaster's eyes. "The only boys I have seen are Draco and Neville, Bellatrix Lestrange's son."

"Bella has a son?" Frank asked suddenly. Then seeing everyone's curious expressions, he added, "She kidnapped my Nicholas when he was a baby!"

"The way I recall it, Longbottom," Snape snapped, "is that she gave you a choice - to stay and be tortured to insanity, or to apparate away with your wife, safe and sound, but leaving your son behind."

"I… I only wanted to get help! We were outnumbered. We couldn't have done anything," Frank said in dismay. Then he raised his eyes with sudden hope, "So… this boy of hers… could he be my Nicholas?

"Do not assume anything, Frank," Dumbledore said kindly. "We have no reason to believe she would have kept your son alive. It is not in her character. Also, remember that she is married and that boy is more than likely of Rodolphus' beget."

"Regardless of who the father is, he has grown up with Bellatrix and other Death Eaters. He is one of them," Moody concluded.

"A harsh view of life, but true, unfortunately. It is the upbringing that matters more than anything else," Dumbledore sighed. "But, my friends, I have gathered you here for a sole purpose today."

"I fear Alastor is right. Things look to be moving for the better but we cannot allow ourselves to enter a false sense of security. Voldemort is losing ground, it is therefore our chance to strike. We must make the next move."

"And what will be our next move?" Moody asked as his eyes gleamed in excitement.

Dumbledore sighed and got up. He turned his back to his audience and said, "The Order of the Phoenix has existed to provide healing and relief to the people. Within its mandate, we may not make aggressive overtures. Therefore, it is my belief that we must establish a new Order."

"What!" Frank exclaimed.

"You can't be serious, Albus," Snape interjected. "What difference does a name make when the people will still be the same."

"I think it's a wonderful idea," James interrupted. "A new name, a new mandate, a new hope. Let the Order of the Phoenix fall into oblivion, and the Order of the Dragon come into being."

With a smile, Dumbledore nodded at James. "Hagrid would like that name, and with Norbert as a Guardian of Hogwarts, it is most fitting."

"Albus, we must keep this new Order a secret," Moody said. "It would be most effective that way."

"I agree," Dumbledore said, and turned to Snape. "It is of utmost importance that Voldemort not find out about this. I ask for an Unbreakable Vow, Severus."

Snape balked slightly, but schooled his expression. "I see your trust in me is wavering, Albus," he raised his hand to stop Dumbldedore from interrupting. "I will take the vow, if only to allay your fears."

----------

"Order of the Dragon," Mort asked in disbelief. "What is it with Gryffindors and lack of creativity… I am glad you chose to confide in me, Severus. I will respect your oath. The Dark Lord will not hear of this from me."

Snape nodded serenely. "You were right, Mort. I belong neither among the Death Eaters and nor with Dumbledore's people."

"Just like me," Mort said quietly. "What made you decide?"

"The Order of the Dragon," Snape hissed. "It has the markings of a personal army for Dumbledore. The Headmaster has styled himself the White Lord, to stand against the Dark Lord. But while the Dark Lord has a clear aim of restoring the rule of magic, Dumbledore only seeks to maintain the corrupt systems that are in place."

"I see," Mort said. "You fail to perceive an order behind Dumbledore's madness." When Snape merely nodded, Mort continued, "Who all are part of this new Order?"

"Dumbledore, Moody, James Potter, Frank Longbottom, Fabian Prewett, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Arthur Weasley and William Weasley."

"And you," Mort commented. "I notice the lack of women. Was that deliberate?"

"Yes," Snape said. "Dumbledore feels that they can no longer avoid adopting some of the methods employed by Death Eaters."

"So much for the White Lord and the Defenders of the Light," Mort laughed sarcastically. He turned his attention back to his work table, where he was drawing runes.

Snape peered at the diagram and frowned. "I am not an expert in runes, not like the Dark Lord, but even I can tell how dangerous that rune is."

"It is a modified use of the Blue Fire," Mort said blankly. "The Dark Lord has specifically forbidden me from using it. But there can be nothing more formidable than this, in the right situation."

"Beware of blood runes, Mort," Snape said worriedly. "They take from you as much as they give."

Shaking his head, Mort said, "They often take much more. But sometimes you might not care, when survival is all you are hoping for."


	4. Chapter 3

**Rise of a Dark Prince**

**Part 1**

**Author's Note:** Before you continue reading, somewhere down the line, not this chapter but within the next three chapters, there will be some violent scenes. Not for litte kids and people who can't stand such stuff, basically.

Thanks for the reviews.

**CHAPTER 3**

Mort's patience was running thin. Besides him, Neville was in much the same mood. They were waiting in Malfoy Manor for Draco to finish getting ready for the Ministry Gala. Both had left Riddle Manor more than an hour ago and collected their passes from Dobby, the Malfoy's house elf, and were waiting for Draco out of courtesy. It had taken the two of them less than half an hour to get ready, even to meet the full expectations of the Dark Lord with their appearance, but Draco had already taken an hour longer.

Mort looked at Neville and nodded. His friend looked the epitome of pureblood class in his blue robes with black fastenings. Mort however, chose for subtle intimidation, much like the Dark Lord once used to. Wearing plain yet elegant black robes, he looked definitely a pureblood, but instead of a prince, he appeared more a warrior. With his appearance resembling that of the Dark Lord, though very few people such as Ollivander and Dumbledore would notice that, Mort had lengthened his hair to his shoulders. Walking with all the poise of his Master, he would be the perfect foil to the extravagant splendor he was sure Draco would appear in.

And he wasn't wrong. Draco entered the room with a sheepish grin, and Mort shook his head in exasperation.

"Green and Silver?" he questioned the blonde pureblood. "And with a black dragon." Then his eyes fell on a grotesque rod in his friend's hands. "Please tell me you are not seriously considering carrying that serpent scepter!"

"I think he is," Neville whispered in mock dismay.

Mort shook his head as Draco riled up at the criticism. "Forget it. I didn't say a word. You look great."

"Father is waiting for us in the courtyard," Draco said sulkily, eyeing his scepter with second thoughts.

Mort shook his head again, "Give our greetings to Lucius, but we only came for our passes. We are to go with Severus and pose as his distant cousins on his mother's side."

"Eileen Prince," Draco said musingly. "The Prince family was extensive and affluent in the past, but no longer. Poor Severus."

"Severus is just fine," Mort said in annoyance. Then his expression cleared, and he asked with sudden interest, "Say, Draco, will we see any of your friends from Hogwarts?"

"I suppose. Crabbe and Goyle will be there," he said in a bored voice. "I sincerely hope not but I am certain Pansy Parkinson will be there too."

"Your girlfriend?" Neville sniggered while Mort raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"At least, according to her," Draco said haughtily. "For me, I would consider her a less than adequate replacement to Dobby."

"Be nice to Dobby," Mort said distractedly. "I think Cricket likes him."

Draco's eyes bulged and he shook his head in disgust. "Please, Mort. Why must you insist on putting such horrible images in my head?"

Ignoring Neville's continuous sniggering, Mort turned to Draco seriously. "What about the people we met in Diagon Alley?"

"The Gryffindors?" Draco asked with, if possible, greater disgust. "Why do you care about them?"

"Just curious," Mort said quietly. His expression clouded somewhat. Both Neville and Draco noticed it and looked at each other, but Mort raised his eyebrow.

"I suppose," Draco said after a while. "The Potters should be there. The Weasleys? If they can afford the tickets, which I doubt. But perhaps the Potters might pay for them. They're close. The Mudblood Granger…"

"Draco," Mort interrupted dangerously.

"Right," Draco broke in hurriedly. "The Muggleborn Granger, I don't think so."

Mort nodded and followed Neville through the floo to Snape's residence. Soon, they were on their way to the Ministry Gala in Castle Whitemere, a Ministry of Magic owned property in the outskirts of London.

"Good Lord, Snape!" a voice came from the darkness where the portkey had dropped them. "You've been hiding two boys of your own all this while! And here we thought you had taken oaths of permanent celibacy or something!"

"Black," Snape acknowledged icily, with a tilt of his head as several figures came into sight. "Prewett. These are my distant cousins Mortimer and Neville Thomas." He frowned when Mort instantly stiffened at the sight of the newcomers.

"Hello boys," the man called Prewett said, shooting an irritated glance at Black. "This is Julia, my wife, and my daughter Gillian. She will start Hogwarts this year."

"Enchanted," Snape said politely and the two boys shook hands with the man, and greeted Julia and Gillian Prewett accordingly. Then Snape turned to the remaining people.

Black frowned, but introduced his family nevertheless. "My wife Susan, daughter Lucy, and sons Jerry and Reggie. Lucy will start Hogwarts next year. Jerry and Reggie, not for half a decade more."

"Hello," Mort said politely to the kids, but Sirius Black ushered them away. Shrugging, he turned to Snape, "Shall we proceed?"

Soon they were at the entrance, and two heavily armored guards were checking for entry passes. When Snape appeared with Mort and Neville, Lucius Malfoy emerged from within and took them right in, much to the chagrin of those in the queue. The guards stood aside with a bow, and Malfoy took them straight to the VIP seats.

"Minister Fudge," he said, indicating a short and plump man with a top hat. "May I introduce you to Mortimer and Neville Thomas, cousins of our most esteemed Potions Master, Severus Snape." He pointed to the three newcomers, and before anyone could say a word, he continued, "Draco is at the food table with his young friends, boys. Why don't you join him for now?"

Mort nodded. Malfoy knew what he was doing. With a bow, he grabbed Neville's arm and led him away, as the receding voice of the Minister fell on his ears, "Much refined and polished, those two. They are an honor to your family, Snape."

Draco was indeed at the food table, flanked by two huge boys that appeared to have the wit of a used tissue. Mort approached them and shook hands with all three, before a voice accosted them.

"Slimy Slytherins! What are they doing here?"

Mort turned to see the redhead from Diagon Alley look at them in contempt. Ron Weasley, Mort recalled his name.

Ron sneered smugly and continued, "This Gala is to show scum like you that you're losing the war!"

"Ron!" Hermione Granger called out in chagrin. She rushed over to the boy's side, followed by a group of people.

"Well, well, well," Draco said scornfully. "Weasleys and Mud… uhm… Muggleborns," he hastily turned to Mort for an instant, and then back at the others. "Fancy seeing you here. The Potters must have been big on charity this year."

"Damn you, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, retrieving his wand. There was silence instantly around them, and every single person around them expected Draco Malfoy to respond in kind, and he nearly did.

But then Mort touched his friend's arm. Turning to Ron, he said quietly and yet in a voice that carried to all those around them, "I suggest you put your wand aside. This is a friendly and peaceful festivity, and you are only disgracing yourself and your family by this overt show of aggression."

By then several adults had appeared, including Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Minister Fudge and an older redhead who appeared to be Ron's father.

"Arthur," Fudge said icily. "I would suggest you to warn your son from challenging others tonight. As young Mortimer has so wisely said, this is a night of peace and celebrations. If he really wants to have a go with young Mr. Malfoy, then we could arrange a special duel for them later."

"That will not be necessary, Minister," Arthur Weasley said, his cheeks red with shame. "My son is truly sorry for his misdemeanor. Aren't you, Ron?"

Mort stood aside as Ron Weasley was made to apologize Draco Malfoy in public and shook his head. The redhead was clearly not apologetic and was taking the ordeal as a personal insult. But then, Mort did not blame Draco for the earlier happenings. It was clearly Ron who was at fault.

He waited for the crowd to disperse and then returned to the table. Choosing some sandwiches from the trays and a glass of pumpkin juice, he drifted away, seeing Draco being lectured by his father and Neville in a conversation with Hermione Granger. He had a mission. Two missions, in fact, one for the Dark Lord, and one for himself.

And it was his personal mission that was easier to achieve first. Looking around, his eyes fell on them - the Potters. He resisted the rush of emotions - grief and loneliness from within, and observed them from a distance. Lily Potter, his mother, had become much thinner than she used to be. James Potter looked quite normal. They were standing with the Blacks and some other people, and the three Black children he had met earlier were with a tiny redhead, about the same age as the twin boys. Her face was identical to that of Lily Potter. She caught his eyes, noticed he was looking at her from afar and smiled. Mort forced himself to tear his gaze.

"Hey," he heard a soft musical voice and turned to his right. The redhead female Weasley was standing there with a crimson tinge on her face.

"Hello… Ginny, isn't it?" Most asked politely, beckoning to an empty chair beside him.

Nodding, the girl sat down next to him. "I want to apologize for my brother's behavior. He hardly ever thinks before saying or doing things. He is a thoughtless git."

Mort smirked. "That he is. But why are _you_ apologizing to _me_?" he asked in confusion. "Neither of us was involved in what happened."

The girl blushed, and Mort raised his eyebrow in realization. The apology was an excuse to talk to him. The girl seemed to have a crush on him. Smiling, he said, "So are you looking forward to Hogwarts, Ginny?"

The girl nodded shyly and Mort sighed inwardly. Her perkiness from earlier seemed to be lost. But then she suddenly turned to Mort and asked, "Do you have a cousin called Tom Riddle?"

Mort started. He turned to Ginny in incredulity and suspicion. "Why do you ask?"

"You do, don't you?" Ginny exclaimed in triumph. "You look just like him!"

Mort suddenly got up and gently beckoned Ginny to a quiet corner. "How do you know that name?" When the girl hesitated, Mort frowned. "Ginny, please tell me. How do you know of Tom Riddle? This is for your own safety."

The girl took a step back. "W-What do you mean?"

"Ginny," Mort began again kindly. "Nobody is going to hurt you, but please tell me. How do you know of Tom Riddle?"

"There you are, Ginny. We thought you were lost," another male redhead came in view. "You don't want to miss the start of the dance, do you? Who is your new friend?"

"M-Mortimer Thomas," she introduced Mort with a gulp but her brother merely grinned.

"Pleased to meet you, Mortimer," the redhead said, shaking hands. "I am William Weasley, though most people call me Bill. I hope my sister isn't bothering you. She has had her eyes on you since the moment you arrived."

"It's Mort," he said. "Ginny is not bothering me. In fact, Ginny," Mort turned to the blushing girl and gave his hand, "May I have the pleasure of a dance?"

Leaving behind a smirking older brother, Mort led a still blushing Ginny to the dance floor. Only a few other couples were dancing, and instantly most eyes fell on the young couple.

"This is my favorite song," Ginny whispered as Mort slid his hand around her waist. He was suddenly glad Narcissa Malfoy had forced all three of them to learn how to dance and Cricket was as eager a teacher as Lady Malfoy. It was apparently an essential skill for a pureblood to have and would leave an impression on those present. But although Mort didn't mind dancing with a pretty girl, that wasn't the reason why he took Ginny to the dance floor.

"I'm glad you like it," he said as they danced. They continued dancing even when the song ended, and then Mort whispered in her ear, "Can you tell me now?"

Slowly, Ginny nodded. "I found a diary."

Mort nearly froze. "Ginny, does the diary write back?"

"Yes. How did you know?" she asked curiously.

Mort sighed. This wasn't good. He wasn't even sure what to do. The Dark Lord had only ever mentioned the diary in passing, and how important it was to him, giving no further details. It shouldn't be in the hands of Ginny Weasley. It could not only be dangerous to her but also to the Dark Lord, and Mort wasn't sure what to do. If the Dark Lord had indeed intended for this to happen, then his own involvement would make him angry. And yet. There was something in Ginny's innocent gaze that made him decide.

"Ginny, do not write to Tom Riddle. Please promise me, do not write to Tom," Mort said urgently.

"Why not?" she retorted petulantly. "Tom is my best friend." _Her only friend_. The thought remain unsaid but was clear between the two.

"You cannot trust an object which thinks for itself and you cannot see where it keeps its brain," Mort repeated a pureblood mantra that parents often told their children, knowing that Ginny would also have been told of it.

"Daddy says that too, but Tom is nice to me. And he looks like you. He is good," she said obstinately, and Mort sighed.

"Ginny, I'll be your friend. You can write to me, okay? But please don't write to Tom."

The girl thought for a few moments as they walked out of the dance floor, ignoring the applause from spectators. "Okay, Mort."

Sighing in relief, Mort took her back to her family and searched for Neville, who chose that very instant to leave the dance floor with Hermione. Draco also walked towards them.

"Potter and Weasley aren't too pleased," Draco remarked as he approached Mort.

"What do you mean?"

"They've been glaring at both you and Neville since you went to the dance floor. I'd say they're jealous you got their girls."

"Oh come on, Draco," Mort said in exasperation. He was getting a bit tired with the events of the evening. "They're just annoyed that Gryffindors are fraternizing with friends of a Slytherin."

"What's bugging you?" Neville asked as they walked to their seats in the front. The duels were about to commence. "You've been a bit off all evening."

Mort shook his head, muttering, "Fools! We'll know their weaknesses before this night is out." But then he froze. He hadn't noticed the seating arrangement earlier carefully. The Malfoys were right next to the Potters, and he was to sit besides Lily Potter.

"Good Evening, Ma'am," Neville said politely as Lily Potter came to take her seat with her children. Her husband was participating in the duel. She smiled at Neville, and Mort also greeted her.

The instant her eyes fell on Mort, she hesitated, but then shaking her head, she sat down between her children, deliberately placing Jake on the other side from Mort. She had observed the little animosity from earlier. But there was something about the boy that drew her. His haunting green eyes reminded her so much of her own eyes, and those of her eldest son's.

"You are making quite an impression here, Mortimer," Lily said when everyone had taken their seats.

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Potter?" Mort asked curiously.

"Quite a few people have been talking about you, young man. The Minister commended the maturity with which you dealt the earlier situation between your friend and Ron," she said, and then added, "And all the women are dying to have a dance with you."

Mort tried hard not to blush and turned to Emily, his sister. "Hello. I am Mort. What is your name?"

"Millie!" she said ecstatically, glad to be part of the conversation. "Mummy calls me Em'ly, but daddy calls me Millie, and Paddie calls me Em."

Mort smiled at the exuberant five year old. "So if everybody has a different name for you, I should have one too, right? How about Emmy? Can I call you Emmy?"

The girl, if possible, looked even happier. She smiled joyfully with childish innocence at Mort and nodded. "I like Emmy."

Mort opened his mouth but was interrupted by a laugh from Lily. He stared at the woman who had abandoned him and felt a sudden yearning. But he turned away and stared at the duel.

Sirius Black and Fabian Prewett were dueling. It was a standard practice match and Mort found it highly boring. Soon he tuned it out and started playfully nudging his sister. Within moments, he had Emily squealing in laughter, much to the annoyance of her other brother and several other guests.

"Hush," Lily scolded her daughter.

"It's my fault, Mrs. Potter," Mort said hastily. "I'm sorry."

Ignoring the woman's platitudes, he fixed his attention back at the duel. James Potter was now going against Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. It was a more interesting duel and Mort was getting drawn in when he suddenly felt a finger jab into his abdomen sharply and yelped. Turning to his side, he saw Emily grinning in delight, and he felt a sudden yearning in his heart. He was seized by a sudden desire to embrace the little kid, but he knew he couldn't. It would be disapproved of. He couldn't even hug his sister. Feeling his eyes dampening, he quickly got up and excusing himself, left.

He walked out of the arena and to a quiet corner. Staying in Riddle Manor with the Dark Lord and his followers, he had placed his sorrows and yearnings behind. But sitting right next to his one-time family, it wasn't as easy. All his past fears and grief came rushing to him and he didn't even notice when he started crying. And he didn't notice when he was pulled into an embrace.

It was several minutes later when he saw a tiny figured latched onto his legs that he realized he wasn't alone. Gulping, he jumped back and balked in disbelief. He had been crying in Lily Potter's shoulder and Emily Potter was holding on to his legs, crying herself.

"I… I…" he stammered, unable to say, or even think, anything coherent.

"Hush," Lily said gently. "It's alright."

Mort shook his head. It wasn't alright, but he couldn't explain that to them. He schooled his emotions. The Dark Lord would be most displeased. He turned blank eyes on the woman and said, "I am sorry, Mrs. Potter… I… I should have a sister… but I don't… Emily reminds me of her."

Lily nodded sadly. "Emily should also have another brother. Perhaps there is some greater power at play that brought us all together."

Mort sighed. "I would like to think so." The Dark Lord. His Master must have known how dearly he wanted to see his sister. He knelt down to face Emily. "Hey Emmy, will you be my sister?"

The little girl nodded rapidly. "Mort, my burther," she squealed joyfully, and Mort couldn't resist hugging her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter," Mort said quietly, still holding Emily. "I will always remember tonight. The day I found my sister."

--------

"Yes, boy," the Dark Lord said in his usual emotionless and monotonic voice. "I did intend for you to meet your former family and your sister."

"Why, Master?" Mort asked curiously, yet with much respect.

"Blood and Family, boy, they are both important. The rest of your family may have given up on you, but your sister never had the chance." The Dark Lord read a parchment and continued, "Lucius says you impressed quite a few people last night. I am pleased."

Mort hesitated. "Master," he said finally, not knowing how else to raise the topic. "I also learnt something disturbing."

"What do you mean, boy?"

"The youngest Weasley girl," Mort said with his eyes lowered. "She said she found a diary among her books with the name Tom Riddle written on the front. She said it wrote back to her, and showed her memories of his life."

The Dark Lord stayed silent.

"She wasn't lying. She knew I looked like Tom Riddle."

The Dark Lord took a deep breath and stood up. "What did you tell her?"

"I made her promise not to write on it. In return, I told her I would correspond with her. Have I erred, Master?"

The Dark Lord regarded his Apprentice in silence. "No. You have done well, boy. Go back to your chamber. I will deal with this." He touched the Dark Mark on his arm as he finished speaking, and Mort shuddered. Somebody was going to be in a lot of pain that night. As he left, he heard the Dark Lord whisper quietly, "Lucius Malfoy."

Mort rushed to his chamber and picked up a parchment and a quill.

'_Hello Ginny,_

_This is Mort and I promised to write to you. Please don't think that I am only sending you a letter to keep you from writing to Riddle. The thing is, I don't have any friends save my brother and Draco, and I would love to think of you as one._

_I cannot write to you too often, as my tutors are very demanding, and I am always given a lot of work. But I will write as often as I can. My owl will wait for you to reply as I live in a highly secured place and ordinary owls will not be able to find me. Her name is Hedwig and she likes owl treats. She also thinks very highly of herself… ouch… that was her biting my finger. Just for that, I should stop reading my letter out loud to her. _

_So, tell me more about yourself. I met Bill and I have met Ron, both are so different. Do you have any other siblings? Anyway, I will be expecting your letter. _

_Mortimer.'_

He then got up and opened the mirror link he had with the Dark Lord's courtroom. He blinked when he saw Lucius Malfoy still under the Cruciatus. The Dark Lord had never punished the aristocrat for more than a minute. But then, he had been very clear in his instructions that Malfoy was not to mess with the diary.

"What's so special about the diary?" he spoke out loud to himself.

---------

Ginny Weasley was confused. She held the letter in one hand and the diary in the other. She looked at the stunning snowy-white owl, Hedwig, and frowned. Mortimer had been so nice to her. He had even danced with her, just her, and no one else. And yet. Tom had promised to always be there for her.

She frowned on reading the letter. Why couldn't he come to Hogwarts too? Then it would be an easy choice. She would much rather have a real friend than a diary. But if she couldn't see Mort in person and letters would come between long delays, then perhaps she should keep the diary. She shook her head. No matter what, a real friend was worth more than a diary.

Having decided, she picked up a quill and wrote:

'_Dear Mort_

_Thank you for your letter. I have never received one before. Bill teased me awfully, he knew it would be you who wrote. Ron was angry. He said if I didn't watch out, I'd be sorted into Slytherin. Do you think that would make me bad? Oops. Draco is a Slytherin, isn't he? Ron and Jake keep saying he is evil, but Hermione frowns whenever they say that. _

_Oh, Emily Potter can't stop talking about you. She keeps saying she found her lost brother. Mrs. Potter almost cried last night. Do you know what she meant? Professor Dumbledore was at the Potters' last night too, asking about you and your brother. He talked to me. I didn't tell him anything except that we danced and became friends. Ron said you were all slimy snakes. He didn't believe me, I think, or Ron. Because, I had a headache afterwards, and the image of Riddle's diary was in my head for quite a while. Do you think he read my mind? I think he did. I don't want him to take the diary. I wrote many secrets in it. Can I send it to you? I know you will keep it safe. But you must not ask Tom for my secrets!_

_I have many brothers. Bill is the best. Charlie is nice, but a bit like Ron, only more grown up. Percy is a bigger git than Ron. He never talks to me unless in scolding. The twins love to prank me, but they are afraid of me too. I can prank them back. That's all about me, plain old Ginny._

_Ginny.'_

The redhead handed the parchment to the waiting owl and hesitating, asked, "Can you carry the diary too?" The owl hooted, clearly offended by the lack of confidence, and Ginny giggled, "Mort was right. Sorry Hedwig, you are a beautiful owl." She handed the diary to the waiting owl, and watched as Hedwig soared out the window. She was lost in the flight of the owl and was roused by a knock on her door.

"Ginny, can you come down, dear? There's someone here to see you."

"That must be Professor Dumbledore," Ginny muttered under her breath. "Just in time."

--------

Mort smiled as he held the diary. The Dark Lord would be pleased. Then he frowned. Dumbledore was using Legilimency on Ginny. He prayed that his new friend wouldn't get into too much trouble for this little act. But then he put that thought out of his mind. No matter how much trouble she got into with her parents and Dumbledore, it couldn't be as bad as having the Dark Lord's personal diary with her.

Then he frowned. The diary. What was so special about it? Hesitating, he debated whether to write on it or not when the image of Lucius Malfoy's twitching body came to his mind and he instantly got up. The diary was not worth the trouble. It was clearly precious to the Dark Lord. He would be pleased to have it back.

So he transformed into his eagle form, and flew to the Dark Lord's courtroom with the diary in his claws. Dropping it in the lap of his surprised Master, he transformed back into his human form and bowed.

"Master," he said respectfully. "The youngest Weasley decided it was safer with me than with Dumbledore. She thinks the Headmaster has been using Legilimency on her. He has been asking about Neville and I."

The Dark Lord hear Mort's tale in silence and then smiled. He got up and in a rare show of emotion, clasped his Apprentice's shoulder. "You have done well, Mortimer. You have done very well."

"Master," Mort said reverently.

"You may keep the diary, boy," the Dark Lord said. "You have proven yourself worthy of such responsibility. It will aid you when I may not be able to, but be wary of it. And keep it safe at all times." The Dark Lord paused, looking at Mort, then asked, "You seek something else?"

With much boldness, Mort asked, "Would the diary have hurt her?"

The Dark Lord looked at Mort severely. "Undoubtedly. It would have taken her life. As it will yours, if you are not wary."

"Then I did the right thing. I do not wish for her to die, Master, though she is on the side of your enemies," he said respectfully, but firmly. "I ask for her life."

The Dark Lord nodded. "There is no reason for her to die… yet." Then he raised his eyebrow and asked with amusement, "Do you desire her?"

Mort blinked. He knew what the Dark Lord meant. "Master, I am only twelve." Then thinking, he added, "I would like to have her as a friend."

The Dark Lord shook his head and said sharply, "You and I, boy," the Dark Lord paused to highlight the importance of what he was about to say, "are doomed to be friendless. Do not let anything or anyone become a weakness for you. There should be none who can command a depth of emotion from you so deep that you would relinquish your own life to keep them safe."

Mort hesitated before saying, "Forgive me, Master," he hesitated again. Then lowering his eyes, he continued, "You command such emotion from me."

The Dark Lord didn't say anything for awhile. Instead he returned to his seat and waved his hand. It was then that Mort noticed they weren't alone. There was a hooded figure in a dark corner of the courtroom. It was the spy whose identity had been kept secret from even his Inner Council.

"I wish to introduce you to my spy, Apprentice," the Dark Lord said. "I was about to assign him the task of fetching my diary, which you have taken care of."

"Come forward," the Dark Lord ordered to the hooded figure, and rising, the person knelt before the Dark Lord. Mort was standing to the right of the Dark Lord's throne and gasped audibly when the person removed the hood covering their face.

"My Lord," the figure said. Then turning to Mort, added, "Lord Apprentice."

"You!" Mort asked in disbelief. Then he smiled. "Wonderful, Master. If I may be excused, I have to say farewell to Draco before he leaves for Hogwarts tomorrow morning."

---------

'_Dear Ginny,_

_Do not worry about that diary any longer. It is safe. It is with me. And I swear I will not pry into your privacy. _

_I heard from Draco Malfoy that you were sorted into Slytherin. Congratulations. That does not make you bad at all! No! And do not listen to anyone who says otherwise. Talk to Bill, he seemed a nice person. I have told Draco to keep an eye on you, which means nobody in Slytherin House will annoy you. You have my word. Do not be annoyed with my interfering so, a Weasley would have suffered terribly in Slytherin otherwise. If anyone does bother you, then let me know. If anyone so much as touches you, they will pay for it dearly. Go straight to Professor Snape. Okay? _

_If you ever need to send me a letter urgently, seal it and give it to Professor Snape or Draco. They will give it to me._

_Until then, your friend_

_Mort.'_

Mort sighed. The girl Weasley was fast occupying a major portion of his mind, more than he could afford to devote to her. He had already been reprimanded twice by Bella for not paying attention during lessons. Shaking his head clear, he dipped his quill in the inkpot once again, before writing yet another letter.

'_Dear Emmy,_

_I know you can't read this yet, but I hope Mrs. Potter reads it to you. I miss you, little sister, and I hope you are being a good girl. _

_I don't know when your birthday is, but seeing as I have missed so many of them, I am sending you a special gift. I made this pendant myself, honest. My tutor made me do exercises for wand subtleties, that is, using your wand to make perfect movements by cutting gemstones. I cut this one and shaped it with my wand from a moonstone. The chain is simple silver but charmed to keep you warm when you are cold, and cool when you're hot. I chose to shape the pendant as a unicorn because it is the purest and gentlest creature in the world. I hope you like it._

_Mrs. Potter, please do not read this to Emily. I know you might think this is an expensive gift, but it truly is not. And if you honestly meant what you said that day, then you will not decline it. __My owl will not be waiting as she has other letters to deliver, but if Emily wishes to send me a letter, please direct it through Professor Snape._

_Mortimer.'_

Mort hesitated. He realized he was putting Severus Snape in a spot of bother. If Dumbledore was honestly prying into finding more about him and Neville, then this letter would surely direct him straight to Snape. He hesitated again. But after a few moments, he decided to go ahead. After all, the Dark Lord himself had created his artificial relationship with Snape and sent him to the Ministry Gala. This could hardly be much more of an issue.

--------

The spy was smiling. He was happy. The meeting with the Dark Lord had gone better than he could have expected, and now he was in the Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts. He was the first to arrive but he didn't have to wait too long. Snape and Potter arrived next, simultaneously, but through separate routes - Snape through the door, and Potter through the Floo. Soon, the rest of the people arrived. The Order of the Dragon was growing, and the spy was an integral part of it.

Dumbledore called the meeting to order. They were all gathered. He waited for everyone to take a seat and finish exchanging pleasantries. He was in a good mood. His spy had entered deep into the confidence of Voldemort and had brought news - disturbing, yes, but news, nevertheless. Picking up his teaspoon, he clinked it against his teacup bringing immediate attention.

"Lord Voldemort has an Apprentice," he announced. For several seconds, there was silence and then pandemonium broke out. Dumbledore sighed. He had expected this very reaction. He clanged his spoon again, but the noise was drowned out. He glanced at his spy, who shrugged. Then he turned to Snape, who had paled.

"Severus," Dumbledore began, and the noise started fading. "I am also aware of the Obscuring Charm placed on you. Do not take your failure in this to heart, my friend."

Snape nodded briskly and frowned. "How did you find out, Albus?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I was afraid your position was becoming rather tenuous, so I took the liberty of putting in place another spy. He has been of utmost use. Do not fret, my boy, your role in this is to keep suspicion from my other spy."

"Who is this spy, Albus?" James Potter asked curiously. He had heard nothing of another spy until then.

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. "I am afraid I cannot say. It is for his own protection." Then Dumbledore turned to Snape, and said, "Oh, another thing, my boy, I am afraid I will have to start putting Obscuring Charms on you for Order meetings from now on. It is much too dangerous for the news to leak out, even by accident."

"I see," Snape said coldly. "Very well."

"I would also like to meet your cousins someday, Severus," Dumbledore said, as if absent-mindedly. "I have been hearing much of them since the Gala. It seems strange that they are not attending Hogwarts."

Snape sighed. "I will see what can be done."

----------

"So you cannot tell me anything else," Mort said in disappointment. When the Potions Master didn't give any response, he nodded. "So Dumbledore is also protecting his information. And he wants to meet me and Neville?"

"You, more than Neville," Snape corrected. "We have been sloppy. Ollivander, Fudge, Lily Potter, William Weasley, they have all talked about you specifically, Mort. Dumbledore wishes to meet you."

"Does he know I am his Apprentice?" Mort asked curiously.

Snape remained silent.

Mort nodded. "So this is part of the obscured information. I must assume the worst then. He believes I could be the Apprentice?"

Snape continued to remain silent.

"Very well," Mort sighed. "Have you spoken to the Dark Lord about this?"

Snape shook his head. "I fear he would be most displeased."

"That he would," Mort agreed. Then he shook his head. "He is busy with the negotiations in Germany. Disturbing him with this would be hurtful to the cause. We must settle this on our own. What is your advice?"

Snape pondered thoughtfully for a while. "If he sees you, he will recognize you. He remembers Tom Riddle well."

"Unless I go in disguise," Mort said musingly.

Snape sighed. "That is not an option. Dumbledore is clever, he will insist on verifying it is truly you."

"How would he do that?"

Snape shook his head. "The easiest way would be to involve Lily Potter or William Weasley."

Mort sighed. He saw the problem. "So meeting him is not an option for me."

"It is not," Snape agreed. "We must find a way to distract him from going after you."

"_Young massster,"_ the hissing voice of Nagini came from the ground as it slithered towards Mort.

"_Good to see you, Nagini,"_ Mort hissed. _"I trust your hunt was successful." _Mort grinned when Snape almost instantly masked his sudden astonishment. Even after all these years, he could not get over the Parseltongue.

"_Yesss,"_ the serpent hissed. _"I heard your dilemma. Thisss is what a serpent would do…"_

"_Go on,"_ Mort prodded.

"_Wear a different face and establish that as the face of His Apprentice to the outside world."_

"Brilliant!" Mort jumped up. "Absolutely brilliant! Severus, now I know why snakes represent cunning and wiles." Turning to Nagini, he added, _"Thank you, my friend. Will you take a permanent place in my council?"_

"_I have always been at your service, Lord Mortimer,"_ the serpent hissed, but Mort frowned.

"_No. Just Mortimer, or Lord Apprentice. Whatever I do, I do it in the name of my Master."_

And so the plans were made. Mort approached the Dark Lord the next day at breakfast and said, "Master, I wish to lead a Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade."

The Dark Lord looked at his Apprentice thoughtfully. "Why?"

Mort bowed. He wouldn't lie to his Master. "Severus fears my identity as your Apprentice has been leaked. I seek to mislead our enemies by appearing in a different face."

The Dark Lord nodded thoughtfully. "A cunning plan. You will take Bella, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Nott and a score Dementors. Remember, you have no other aim but to make your face known. And you will go to Diagon Alley. Hogsmeade is well protected by the staff of Hogwarts."

"That was the idea, Master," Mort said with a frown. "To show my false face to Dumbledore."

"Do not be a fool, boy," the Dark Lord hissed in irritation. "He would realize your ploy instantly. Do you think the Headmaster would hesitate using Legilimency to snatch an image of your face from the minds of the witnesses in Diagon Alley?"

Mort's cheeks reddened with a twinge of shame, but he bowed. "Very well, Master."


	5. Chapter 4

**Author****'****s Notes: **

1. The new spy is the same person for both Voldemort and Dumbledore. Each thinks the spy works for them.  
2. I'm sorry to those who don't want this to be a HarryGinny, but it is. I might eventually write a non HarryGinny fiction, but not yet.  
3. This is a slightly shorter chapter, but mostly because it never was supposed to be here. This only came into being after the next chapter had been written to maintain a flow  
4. Thanks for reviews. Please continue. I like them.

**Rise of a Dark Prince**

**Part 1**

**CHAPTER 4**

Mort woke up suddenly. Yawning, he jumped out of his bed and ran to the courtroom of the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters wouldn't be there for quite some while. He had to find the Dark Lord before they arrived. Two years had passed since his first attack on Diagon Alley, and he had carried out several more - the latest being on his birthday, but under the guise of Jake Potter's birthday.

In his raids, instead of going with the sole aim of killing and torturing as the Death Eaters preferred in general, he went with specific aims, such as destroying newly unveiled statues of Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore, and the likes. All under his new guise as the Lord Apprentice - a brown haired and blue eyed boy of medium height and average build. The most notable features of his face were the broken nose, which he added for no real reason, and a hideous scar that ran along his left cheek. Even the Death Eaters, save the Inner Circle, had begun to take this as his true appearance.

That day was an important one for the Dark Lord. He was leading the most experienced of his men to an all-out attack on Hogsmeade. But Mort had suddenly realized something important and wished to speak to his Master with utmost urgency.

"Master," he called out breathlessly on reaching his destination.

The Dark Lord regarded his Apprentice with less than full favor. "Calm down, boy. I am not disappearing anywhere. What do you want so early this morning?"

"Master," the boy panted for breath again. "Before you go for the raid, I… your other spy… he is not true to you."

The Dark Lord remained silent, motioning for Mort to continue.

Mort steadied himself and spoke. "These past three raids that I have led… each time, I told Severus to spread information to the Order, so we could gain him credibility. But somehow the Order always knew when my leaked information were a mere cover. They knew when Severus was merely spreading false information."

"So you are suggesting…"

"The spy works for Dumbledore," Mort exclaimed. "That is the only explanation."

"Do not be ridiculous, boy," the Dark Lord hissed in anger. "Do you think such treachery could pass undetected by me? By Lord Voldemort?"

Mort blanched. "Forgive me, Master. It is the truth. The spy has turned."

The Dark Lord pondered Mort's words thoughtfully. "I will think on what you have said. But today's raid will go ahead. Hogsmeade shall bow before Lord Voldemort."

"Master, please," Mort begged. "Please change your plans. I have an uneasy feeling about this."

The Dark Lord glared at his Apprentice. In a commanding tone, he bellowed, "My vision will not cater to the whims of your unease, boy. The raid will continue."

"Then let me come with you, Master," Mort pleaded.

"You forget yourself," the Dark Lord snapped. "Every single person who follows me today has been with me for at least a decade. They have bled sorely and suffered many hardships. I do not take youth and inexperience to such important missions, and I will make no exceptions.'

"What about your spy?" Mort spat out in disgust. "He has been with you for less time than I."

"_Do you question my decision?"_ the Dark Lord hissed angrily, unwittingly switching to Parseltongue. "I should punish you for your impudence. Leave now."

Mort suddenly felt cold and detached. "Very well, Master. I must return to my tasks for the day."

But instead of returning to his chamber, he went to look for Neville, and together they went to his chamber. Mort ignored Neville's curious questions and drew a rune on his mirror. The scene changed to that of Snape's private chamber in Hogwarts, and Mort called out urgently, "Are you there, Severus?"

"What do you want, Mortimer?" Snape said irritably. "I have told you to not call me in Hogwarts. It is much too dangerous…"

"This is urgent," he interrupted. "Are you aware of today's raid in Hogsmeade?"

Snape shook his head with a frown. "No. Is there supposed to be one? The Dark Lord hasn't deemed me worthy of being privy to this information. Both sides are realizing my lack of value as a spy."

Mort shook his head vigorously. "He wants this to be a success. He didn't want it to leak through any source."

The figure of Snape balked in the mirror. He shook his head and steadied himself on a chair.

Mort raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"Today is a Hogsmeade Weekend. The students from the Castle will be there. What should I do? If the Dark Lord comes with his forces, then there will be…"

Mort understood. He turned to Neville, who shrugged blankly. Looking at Severus, he said with a sigh, "Do what you think is necessary."

Snape sighed. He knew what the consequences of his actions could bode for both himself and for Mort, and yet he couldn't stand by and watch the Death Eaters wreck havoc in Hogsmeade with hundreds of students around. It would be a terrible blow to Wizardkind at large.

So leaving his chambers, Severus Snape walked straight to the Headmaster's Office and knocked.

"Come in, Severus," the omniscient voice of the Headmaster came serenely from within, and Snape walked in. To his surprise, Dumbledore wasn't alone. Several members of the old and the new Orders were present, and fully prepared.

"You know?" Snape asked in confusion.

"Yes," said Dumbledore simply. "Since last night."

"Your news comes too late, Snape," Black said disapprovingly. "One would assume you _intended_ for us to be caught unawares."

"Sirius," Dumbledore interjected before Snape could retort. "Severus honestly wasn't aware. My spy told me exactly who all are involved. What I find surprising is this - if the Dark Lord is indeed suspicious of you, then how did you find out, Severus?"

Snape sighed. He was still bound by the charm. "I am afraid I am unable to give an answer to that."

"Ah," Dumbledore said knowingly. "I thought so."

Snape raised an eyebrow curiously at the Headmaster, who merely twinkled in a grandfatherly manner. "What do you know, Albus?"

"The Apprentice," Dumbledore said simply. "You do not have to answer as I am aware you cannot. Do not worry, my boy, our spy is deep within the enemy's councils." Then rising up, he said commandingly, "It is time, we must get going. Remember, we are there to celebrate Lily's birthday. Act the part. We do not want to cast suspicion on our spy."

Snape returned to his chamber with a heavy heart. He drew the rune on his mirror, and to his surprise Mort was waiting for him anxiously.

"What happened?" he asked immediately.

"Your suspicions of late are true. The unnamed spy works for the Order. Dumbledore knew. Even as we speak, they are on their way to Hogsmeade."

Mort blanched. Then he frowned thoughtfully. "What about you? Why aren't you there? And why are you able to tell me all this?"

Snape sighed. "My presence was not needed. It would be suspicious for me to be part of Lily Potter's birthday party in Hogsmeade due to my animosity towards her husband and Black. I have been obscured, but as I know you will not be repeating this to the Dark Lord, I can speak to you."

Mort nodded. "That is a clever way of going against the charm, but there will be hell to pay if he finds out."

"What are we to do now?"

Neville spoke then, for the first time. "Whom are we supporting here - the Death Eaters or the Order? I am confused."

"Neither," Mort replied to his friend. "The students, the Dark Lord and Bella. I want them all safe." He hesitated, then hissed, _"__Nagini, are you here?__"_

The serpent crawled from underneath the table and slid up Mort's leg to his lap. _"__Yes, little massster.__"_

"_What is your view on this? What should we do?"_

The serpent coiled around Mort's neck and faced him eye to eye. The Apprentice, however, was not bothered at all and waited for the serpent to continue.

"_You could lead your own raid, little massster, and achieve what you desire."_

Mort nodded. "The Dark Lord will punish us severely for this, but I see no other option." He got up and turned to Neville, "You don't have to come with me."

"Shut up, Mort," Neville said in annoyance. He got up too, and then blinked. "Where are we going again?"

--------

The Dark Lord was beyond angry. His perfect raid was spoilt. Not only was the staff of Hogwarts there, but several of their friends were also present in Hogsmeade, albeit unaware of the raid. They had taken the Order by surprise, which was lucky, but their presence incensed him. In anger, he turned to his spy, who was beside him.

"Were you aware of this?"

"My Lord," the spy said with a bow. "I give you my word, I had no information about this… birthday party. As you are aware, I am not supposed to..."

"Silence," the Dark Lord thundered. "Then your importance to me is receding just as Severus' has. Perhaps I should find another spy."

The spy paled, though the white Death Eater mask kept his face covered. "Forgive me, My Lord. I will not make such a mistake again."

"My Apprentice fears your loyalty towards me is wavering," the Dark Lord commented as he observed Dumbledore battling against the Dementors. James and Lily Potter were beside the Headmaster, while the rest of the Order members were fighting the Death Eaters. He slipped in his comment as a matter of fact, carefully gauging the spy's reaction.

The spy immediately knelt on the ground and said, "My Lord, my oath to you is true. How can I convince you of my allegiance?"

The Dark Lord nodded in satisfaction. He had been waiting for that very offer. He pointed to a group of students attempting to hold their own ground in a corner. "If you are indeed true to me and not to the Order, you will not hesitate bringing me the redhead Weasley girl captive. You are not to touch the Potters. I have other plans for them. The girl will be a gift to my Apprentice."

"As you command, My Lord," the spy said quietly and got up. He turned to the group of students - the Defense Association, formed by James and Jake Potter to train students to fight Death Eaters. Foolish Gryffindors, the spy fumed. But he had to maintain his act.

There were six of them and the spy recognized each one instantly - Jake Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Gillian Prewett and Dean Thomas - a group of mere third and fourth years. They would have been better served in escaping. Instead, they were engaging Nott, Parkinson and Avery. The spy nodded appreciatively at Jake Potter's dueling style. He would be a good warrior someday if he survived his own recklessness. Then he zoned everyone out and fixed his attention on Ginny Weasley. She was aiding Hermione Granger against Nott.

The spy waited in the shadows. He had an odd feeling of being watched. He waited. It was then that Crabbe and Goyle joined the battle against the students, and they were beginning to get overwhelmed, when suddenly stray curses came from afar. The spy hesitated and turned to the spot where the curses were coming from. There were clearly at least two, perhaps three, people hidden. But they seemed to be taking the side of the students, so he didn't wonder too much. He had to maintain his act. So seizing the moment of confusion, he whispered, "Incarcerous! Accio Ginny!" and ran towards the Dark Lord as the tied figure of the struggling student following his wand.

"Well done," the Dark Lord said, highly pleased. Ginny Weasley was lying at his feet. He raised his wand and flicked it down when "Accio!" another voice yelled from a distance. The Dark Lord paused, turned to the bushes angrily and hissed, "Apprentice!"

The spy gasped in bafflement when the brown haired Apprentice emerged from the bushes and walked proudly to the Dark Lord. He bowed, but then without any hesitation whatsoever, untied the binds off Ginny Weasley and banished her to safety. It was only then that the Dark Lord got over his shock and uttered, "Crucio!" He held it for several minutes and all other activity seemed to stop instantly.

"Let him go, Riddle," Dumbledore's calm voice resounded all around. "You have lost. You have lost the battle and your Apprentice. Let him go."

But instead of doing as the Headmaster said, the Dark Lord bellowed one word, "Retreat!" and vanished with his Apprentice. The conscious Death Eaters followed suit. So did the spy.

--------

"You fool," the Dark Lord hissed at Mort venomously. "She was to be a gift for you."

Mort lowered his head in shame and anger. "I have told you, Master, I do not want her as a gift. I asked for her life."

The Dark Lord took a sharp breath. "You deliberately disobeyed me, boy. You will be punished for your impudence. Crucio!"

Mort fell to the full wrath of the curse yet again and screamed. Sweat and blood had clouded his vision.

The Dark Lord finally lifted his wand and hissed, "Episkey!" casting a minor healing charm. The Death Eaters had all left already, and he had waited until they were alone to punish Mort. "You have disappointed me, Apprentice. By the evidence of your own eyes, you have seen the falsity of your accusations. And you showed direct defiance to me in front of my men and my enemies. Why did you do this?"

Mort kept his head low and didn't answer. He saw the Dark Lord raise his wand again, but fortunately for him, before his Master could strike, Nagini came slithering into the room. The serpent went straight to the Dark Lord and held a whispered conversation with him as Mort waited, completely inert.

"Nagini says you came to keep me safe. Is that true, boy?" the Dark Lord demanded.

Mort didn't raise his eyes. "You, Bella and the students," he responded in a shaky voice.

The Dark Lord shook his head and observed his Apprentice in silence. After several minutes, he roared, "You are a fool. Do you think _I, Lord Voldemort,_ need _your_ protection? You forget yourself, Apprentice." He raised his wand again, but before he could curse the trembling Mort, another voice interrupted.

"Please, My Lord," Bellatrix said in a quivering voice. She came to Mort's side, and put an arm around him. "Please, My Lord. He is in much pain. Let him go."

"Do you wish to defy me as well, Bella?" the Dark Lord asked dangerously, his eyes glinting with a fury that surprised both Mort and Bellatrix.

But the female Death Eater merely lowered her head, keeping her arm tightly round the suffering boy.

Finally, the Dark Lord shook his head. "Go back to your chamber, boy, and heal your wounds. Get some rest. We will discuss your punishment later."

Mort nodded, whispering, "Thank you, Master," as he retreated. He walked to his chamber and found Neville waiting for him with great worry in his face.

"I should have been punished too, Mort. You shouldn't have denied my participation," the boy protested adamantly as he passed the vials of potions he had already arrayed n front of him for Mort.

Mort drowned each vial before answering. "You only did as I said. None of this was your fault. You did not deserve punishment." He stared vacantly to space and didn't say anything else, and Neville quietly left, realizing his friend wanted to be left alone.

Mort waited for several minutes in solitude before picking up a quill.

'_Dear Ginny_

_How are you? Professor Snape told me about what happened in Hogsmeade today. I hope you aren't hurt. _

_I think it is a stupid idea of you joining the Defense Association. No, don't get me wrong. You should learn how to be able to defend yourself and it doesn't matter if you do so with Gryffindors. But to face Death Eaters in battle? You are thirteen years old! I hope you get scolded and punished, not too much, but enough, so you start thinking before you act like your brainless brother and his friends. As you might have noticed, I am disappointed with you. I was so scared when I… Do you realize how close you were… never mind. I forgive you, anyway. _

_I am glad you liked the phoenix pendant I gave you for your birthday. Thank you for buying chocolates for Emily. I really do owe you for that. But I must go now, my tutors are making me work extra hard these days._

_Your friend_

_Mort.'_

--------

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office and deep in thought. The earlier events of the day had posed many new questions for him. First, he was beginning to doubt the loyalty of his own spy. He had noticed the scene unfold very carefully and had extracted the memory from Ron Weasley's mind. The spy had very nearly given a young female student to the nonexistent mercies of Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore appreciated the delicate situation he might have been in, but was unable to get rid of that little niggle of doubt from his mind.

At the same time, the Apprentice had finally revealed his true nature. Dumbledore was pleased. To get hold of the Apprentice and turn him over to his side would be a fatal blow to Voldemort, and the earlier events had given him much hope of being able to achieve just that. The Apprentice had been helping the students throughout the Death Eater raid. Dumbledore was very pleased. But first, he had to deal with the spy.

He faced the person sitting in front of him and asked simply, "Why?"

The spy looked at the Headmaster keenly and said, "The Apprentice fancies her. He would not have allowed any harm to come on her."

"Does he now?" Dumbledore leaned back again. The situation was becoming more and more pleasant for him. Then suddenly, he frowned. How did the Apprentice know her in the first place. He asked, "Tell me truthfully, was that his real face?"

The spy hesitated. Then looking around, he sighed. "No." He paused for a moment and continued, "You must obscure this conversation from my mind. He would punish me severely if he found out." When Dumbledore nodded, he continued, "The boy from the Gala, Mortimer Thomas Riddle. He is the Apprentice. This is a fake persona."

Dumbledore nodded happily. He had had his suspicions but over the course of the past year, they had subsided. He smiled at his spy and said, "Is there hope for the Apprentice to be turned? Has he been marked?"

The spy shook his head. "Not yet. The boy loves the Dark Lord, though he hates the Death Eaters and their ways. He would never willingly turn to us. Also, he is suspicious of me."

"What about Ginny Weasley? Can she be of any aid?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

The spy pondered thoughtfully. "Perhaps. But she would have to be captured by the Death Eaters for the Apprentice to truly go against them."

Dumbledore nodded happily. "Then we have found our way." With a motion of his hand, he dismissed the spy, who gladly left the office.

As he left, the spy pondered the implication of the Headmaster's words in his mind. The Great and Noble Albus Dumbledore was willing to play with the lives of his students. He was just like the Dark Lork. The spy smiled. In this highly intricate chessboard, there was only one person truly certain of his own orientation, himself.

He apparated to Riddle Manor and slowly walked in. The Dark Lord was alone. He seemed to be in a foul mood, and the spy shuddered. Bowing, he waited for the Dark Lord to begin questioning.

"What news?" he asked simply.

"Dumbledore is making plans to turn your Apprentice, My Lord," the spy said quietly. "His defiance in the battlefield was taken as a lack of interest in becoming a Death Eater."

The Dark Lord nodded. He was worried. "What plans is the Headmaster making?" But before he could get a response, the Dark Lord drew back with a jerking motion and hissed, "Why did he not obscure this information from your mind?"

The spy paled. "It was forgotten amidst all the revelations and activities of the day, My Lord. Much is astir in Hogwarts."

"Very well," the Dark Lord said suspiciously. "Do you know what plans he is making?"

"No, My Lord," the spy said regretfully. "I was not told."

As the Dark Lord questioned his spy, Mort closed the window link and turned furiously to Nagini. _"How can he even think I will go against him? How can I prove my loyalty?"_

"_Do not excite yourself, little massster,"_ the serpent hissed consolingly, wrapping itself around the boy. _"Your best way forward is complete obedience."_

Mort shook his head and sat down. Just then Hedwig fluttered in through the window, and he looked at the owl expectantly as she dropped a piece of parchment on the table. Quickly and eagerly, he read it.

'_Dear Mort_

_I am sorry… I really am… I wont do anything so silly again, I promise. Don't be upset with me. _

_Everything is in such a mess over here. The Potters are staying over in Hogwarts, all of them, so are the Blacks, the Prewetts and the Longbottoms. I heard something called the Order of the Dragon. I think they're a group of people who fight You Know Who. It's exciting, but no… I wont even think of fighting, okay? To make up to you, I'm going to take Emily out flying when it's a bit safer, okay? And I will keep myself from teasing Draco for a week. I promise._

_It was so scary this morning. I thought I was going to die. I saw You Know Who… he looked a bit familiar but I couldn't place him. Then his Apprentice saved me! Yes, the Dark Apprentice! And I don't believe that he is bad! He saved my life… He was so brave, and I cried when You Know Who put him under the Cruciatus Curse for so long. _

_I got to go now. Write again soon. I wish we could meet again soon. It's been so long. _

_Love, Ginny.'_

Reading the letter, Mort felt slightly relaxed. It was always good to hear from his long distance friend. But he was a bit confused. Seeing her tied at the feet of the Dark Lord had made him freeze momentarily. Then when the Dark Lord raised his wand, he had been frightened. He knew he would never attack his Master, but he would have jumped in front of whatever curse his Master cast at the girl.

Then shivering, he realized what his Master meant. He had a weakness.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:** Why are so many people worried that I wont finish this story? ;) I will, I promise. At least, I will finish Part 1 within the next few month or two, if not weeks, exams notwithstanding. Part 1 will be a substantial and stand alone bit of the story line, and enough to not make me feel guilty if I stop paying attention to this story for a while.

**Rise of a Dark Prince**

**Part 1**

**CHAPTER 5**

It was a sunny winter morning and Mort and Neville were playing around in their Animagus forms. The eagle swooped on the wolf as the land animal tried to pounce on the winged predator. The eagle swerved and the wolf missed, but landed on the ground flawlessly. In a swift and effortless motion, the wolf leapt up again, when suddenly the eagle's sharp sight caught a glimpse of a man limping towards them, and Mort soared away to land next to Severus Snape.

"How was the raid?" Mort asked with trepidation. It had been nearly a year since the disastrous day when Mort followed the Dark Lord, and since then he had become the epitome of obedience and discipline.

"Follow me," Snape said curtly, ignoring the startled look on the face of the youth. He led Mort out of the manor, followed by Neville. They walked briskly towards the Death Retreat. Loud noises were audible from within and Mort felt bile rising in his stomach. He knew what that meant.

"The Dark Lord is not pleased with me lately, and my interference here will not be taken kindly by the more… crass… of his followers," Snape said neutrally though Mort detected a hint of expertly concealed fury. "The new attack in Hogsmeade was a success. The staff of Hogwarts managed to prevent any significant damage, but several foolish students followed Jake Potter to try and fight on their own. Some were taken prisoners. They are within."

Nodding, Mort asked, "Who all are there?"

"The Lestrange brothers, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, the Crow brothers, Crouch, Flint," Snape muttered.

"_Nagini,"_ Mort hissed after a curt nod, _"Follow me." _And he entered.

It was an absolute ruckus that met his sight. The stench of sweat and wine mingled with the vomit from some of the prisoners sickened Mort but he kept a cool expression. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of several semi-naked girls, several of whom were his age or less. His eyes glinted at the sight of a redhead whose face he instantly recognized, and his fury multiplied tenfold. His presence not yet noticed, he calmly summoned the wands of the Death Eaters who were involved in torture of a more personal nature.

"Lord Apprentice," Flint observed Mort first, from atop a pretty Oriental girl, and called out in sudden fear. Instantly, all the Death Eaters turned to Mort. The Lestrange brothers whipped out their wands and pointed it at the Apprentice.

Mort looked disdainfully at them and said icily, "The prisoners will come with me."

"Now look here, these are the spoils of battle and you have no right to deny us our due," Rabastan Lestrange snapped angrily, patting one of the prisoners. "We are the ones who risk our lives for the Dark Lord in battle. Our comforts are well earned."

"Well said, brother," Rodolphus nodded and gazed at Mort sourly. "Leave us be if you know what's good for you."

With a glint of fury, Mort hissed,_"__Nagini! Bind him!__"_ The Death Eaters froze in place as the Dark Lord's familiar came in sight and coiled around the man who defied the Apprentice.

"Does anyone else dare question my authority?" he asked harshly in a manner much similar to the Dark Lord, and getting no response, went on, "If any of you have a problem with what I am doing, then go to the Dark Lord," and then he turned to the girls. "Finite!" he said quietly and their binds were off. He turned to the Death Eaters and seeing no reaction, nodded.

"Follow me!" was all he said to the girls as he turned and stalked out of the cave. Neville was waiting anxiously but Snape had disappeared. Mort knew the Potions Master couldn't reveal himself in front of so many students, so he led them to the stone chamber that was his personal dwelling place.

The Dark Lord would not let him free them, he knew that, at least not all of them. There would be instant revolt among his supporters if some of them were denied their rightful 'spoils' as they called it. The students, not surprisingly, were nearly all girls save one tiny boy, and Mort noticed they were as scared of him as they seemed to be of the Death Eaters. He led them to the cold stony chamber and sat on his usual seat, like a judge passing sentence on prisoners. The girls all stood huddled together with lowered heads as if awaiting a death sentence.

"You're the Dark Apprentice!" the petite redhead snapped at him. Despite the situation, Mort almost smiled at her, but then halted at her tone. Ginny was looking at him in anger and hatred. Her eyes were fueled with the pain of betrayal, and Mort couldn't bear to hold her gaze.

He sighed. "What are your names?" he asked authoritatively. "Start from the left, next to Ginny," he stated, pointing to a frightened bushy haired girl standing next to the redhead.

"Hermione Granger," she managed to utter without raising her eyes.

Granger. His eyes widened and suddenly he recognized the girl he had met three years ago in Diagon Alley and then at the Ministry Gala. Mort sighed. The girl was muggleborn. She would stand no chance for mercy.

"Ch-Cho Ch-Chang," the Oriental girl whispered amidst tears. The bruises and marks on her body were visible even from a distance. She was pretty enough to expect the most torture, and the worst, among all those present. Mort shook his head again.

The names continued. Susan Bones was next and Mort raised an eyebrow. Her aunt was a powerful political figure. That could bode trouble. Katie Bell. Padma Patil. Romilda Vane. And finally, the boy, Dennis Creevey.

Mort sat quietly for a few seconds, drumming on the arm-rest of his chair and in deep thought. Shaking his head, he finally stood up and raised his wand. The girls all flinched in fear, but Mort simply said, "Episkey!" and cast a minor healing charm on each of them.

"I wont lie to you," he began. "You are all prisoners of war. By rights, the Death Eaters have full claim over you. I will try to convince the Dark Lord to release you but I'm afraid it will be of no use."

"If you really want to help us," Ginny snapped, "then why don't you let us go now?"

Mort shook his head. "You will not last two minutes out of this chamber. In case you haven't noticed, you are in Death Eater Headquarters. Inside here, you are in my domain and none save the Dark Lord can enter. Outside, you will find several layers of sentries. There is no escape. The best you can hope is for me to keep you here long enough for some rescue party to come looking for you. In the confusion, I might be able to slip you past."

"You are one of them! Why should we trust you?" Ginny snapped angrily.

"Because there is no one else," Mort snapped back. "Look, in case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to help you all here. I don't know how much longer we have before…"

He was interrupted by a sharp voice. "Mortimer!" it bellowed, and the Dark Lord walked in angrily. Mort instantly got up and bowed before his Master.

"Do you want to put a revolt in my hands?" he snapped in full fury and Mort drew back slightly. "You have created a stir among my followers. You know I am against such activities as much as you, but I cannot keep denying them what they fight for."

"Then you have forgotten what you are fighting for," Mort hissed back sharply, and added bitingly, "Master."

Ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the Dark Lord, he continued, "Where is pureblood honor in molesting and torturing underage witches? Your followers do not seek to create a harmonious magical society! They wish to enslave it! Just like you!" Then he felt the wind knocked out of him as the Dark Lord's hand crashed against his face. The Dark Lord had never struck him physically before.

"Crucio!"

Mort fell to the ground and twitched for several long minutes but refused to give his Master the satisfaction of his screams. Sweat and blood clouding his vision, and he barely made out the voice of his perky redhead friend cry in anguish, "Stop! Please stop!"

The Dark Lord ended the curse and followed with a healing charm, "Episkey!" He waited for Mort to stand up.

"Forgive me, Master," Mort said shortly. "I forgot my place."

The Dark Lord stayed silent for several minutes, glaring at his Apprentice, and then at the girls who were standing completely still, with fear and shock. Finally, he said, "I apologize as well, Apprentice. What would you have me do?"

Mort glanced at Ginny and said, "You once gave me a boon and I asked for her life. Since then I have never asked for anything else, Master. I now ask for all their lives."

The Dark Lord shook his head. "I cannot allow this. My men will not accept it any longer. You must return their prisoners."

"Your men are nothing more than depraved and mindless goons, enslaved by their pleasure-seeking ways," Mort responded coldly. "They will turn on you the moment it enters their thick skulls that the society you seek to create has no place for the likes of them."

"And yet they are my men. They fight and bleed for me. They walk to battle with the knowledge that they might not come back. Several of their comrades died today. This is their recompense. If they do not have it they will no longer walk to battle." He held up his hand to stop Mort from speaking and beckoned him to follow him out of the chamber. "I have decided. Follow me."

"Colloportus!" the Dark Lord locked the entrance to the chamber and led him to the courtyard where half the Death Eaters instantly raised their wands at the boy and started shouting.

"Silence!" the Dark Lord said loudly, his voice piercing the din of noises and continued, "I have decided. My Apprentice desires those girls for himself. I have decided he will duel five of you, my faithful Death Eaters, at the same time. Should he win, then he will choose three of the prisoners he most desires. But believe me, should he win, I will be most displeased with those of you who lost."

Back in the stone chamber, Neville looked at the girls with a confused look. Cho was weeping audibly, crouched on the floor, and though her companions tried to console her, their words had no effect. Then seeing all their open wounds, he called out, "Cricket!"

With a pop, the house elf appeared. "What can Cricket do for Master Neville?" Then looking around, she saw the huddled girls and her eyes widened.

"Do what you can for them," he said quietly. "Healing potions, plasters, baths, clothes, food. See to it." Then he walked to the far corner and with his wand, drew the rune Mort had taught him on the mirror. He needed to know what was happening outside, and did not notice that some of the girls had also turned their attention to the mirror on hearing the sound coming from it.

"Rodolphus, choose four of your companions and come forward," the Dark Lord snapped and strode to his throne. "The rest of you clear the space. Lucius, erect a duel ring! Bella, get out of my way!" he hissed, pushing the woman aside.

Neville recoiled at the anger and animosity in the Dark Lord's face when he pushed Bellatrix. "Be gentle with her, you… you…" he shouted, and then slumped to the floor as realization struck him about Mort's task. "Five on one… no…"

"He's fighting for us, isn't he?" a voice came from behind him and Neville turned sharply to see Ginny looking with mixed emotions at the mirror. Next to her Hermione stood with a confused expression, which cleared immediately.

"Diagon Alley!" she said slowly. "With Malfoy… Mortimer and Neville."

Neville nodded without interest, turning his attention back to the duel. All six were inside. Mort was pacing the circle with a stony expression. Neville narrowed his eyes. "Rodolphus, Rabastan, Nott, Crouch, Flint… for Heaven's Sake! You've got to be kidding!" he complained loudly, as Hermione and Ginny crouched next to him.

Mort however, could not hear his friend and his attention was solely fixed on his opponents. The Dark Lord didn't intend for him to win although he gave him a fair opportunity. Mort was under no illusion. The last time he had dueled so many Death Eaters was when they were drunk and underestimated his skills. This time there would be no quarters. He would be up against some of the Dark Lord's fiercest warriors, angered by his actions. He chanced a glance at Snape, recognizing his physique behind the white mask. The man no movement save a small flick of his wrists, his usual sign for increasing speed. Mort nodded. Speed would be key in this duel.

He fixed his attention on Rodolphus, who he realized would be the first to attack him, and waited for Lucius Malfoy to blow a horn. The signal of the start. Instantly, Mort felt three stunners and two cruciatus flying towards him, and seeing no other way, dodged the stunners by accepting a cruciatus. His second cruciatus in less than half an hour, he fell to the floor twitching in agony but making no sound.

When the curse was lifted, he jumped up ignoring the pain in his body and shot several curses wildly, "Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Diffindo! Reducto!" He didn't aim of them specifically, only seeking to make his opponents back off a bit.

"Crucio!" Rabastan yelled and Mort shuddered at the intensity of the curse he had just experienced a minute ago as he ducked out of range, shooting his own curse in parseltongue, _"Serpensaura!"_

A silver vapor spread from his wand and covered the Death Eater, incapacitating him from further part in the duel.

The remaining four were enraged and renewed their attack on him with vigor. Mort erected a shield which held most of the ordinary curses and dodged the unforgivables as best as he could. Fortunately, none of the Death Eaters threw the killing curse, having no desire to anger the Dark Lord by killing his Apprentice.

Mort however, didn't have faith in them to hold the Killing Curse back for too long. He drew a complex rune in mid-air, as he kept his shield in place. The rune opened the storage rift and he summoned his extra wand from within.

"Diffindo!" Nott yelled and his curse broke past Mort's shield. The boy saw with wide eyes as the jet of light rushed to him and jumped. But the curse hit his lower leg and he felt a searing pain as he fell on his knees. Trying to get up, he stumbled. His left leg was weakened.

From his place on the ground, he waved both his wands simultaneously. "Serpensortia! _Attack them! Bite them!" _he called out angrily. Two menacing snakes, a cobra and a swamp adder flew to Nott and Crouch. Nott managed to banish the cobra in time but Crouch was less fortunate. The adder bit him and he jumped out of the ring, looking for an antidote to the venom. Mort smirked. Two down.

But he was still on his knees while his opponents were fully mobile. They took advantage of this by sending a rapid volley of cruciatus, which couldn't be stopped by Mort's shield. The boy writhed in pain for more than five minutes but when he regained his senses, bloody and sore, he smirked again. The foolish Death Eaters were more intent on causing him pain then winning the duel. Seeing no better option, he transformed into his Animagus form and flew straight towards Nott.

The Death Eater looked in surprise as a giant eagle charged at him and was unable to concentrate properly. His spells, resultantly, missed their mark and the eagle kept coming closer. He took a few steps back but the eagle was faster and collided at his face with tremendous speed, making several deep gashes with his talons. Nott dropped his wand, covering his face in his hands, trying to shield himself from the attack of the eagle and immediately, Mort transformed, kicking the Death Eater's wand away, stunned him simultaneously.

He felt two curses rushing towards him and jumped up, transforming into his eagle form again and flying wildly, not providing a single target to his remaining two opponents. Finally, he reached a relatively safer position as the two Death Eaters paused for breath and transformed back. "Stupefy! Incendio!" he sent rushing towards them but their shields blocked his curses.

"_Serpensaura!" _he hissed and sent the silver mist of serpent venom towards Rodolphus who levitated himself up and jumped afar. He had learnt from the past.

"Crucio!" the Death Eater yelled just as his partner shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

With two unforgivables headed towards him, Mort transformed himself with his metamorphmagus skill. He shortened his height and narrowly missed the green jet of light. Then, he increased his height and transformed to a splitting image of the Dark Lord.

"You dare attack me, Flint!" he hissed in a serpentine voice, resembling his Master. The young Death Eater grimaced and lost his footing, startled by the sudden appearance of the Dark Lord. Mort didn't need a second chance and sent a stunner that made contact. Once again, it came down to Mort and Rodolphus. Both walked in circles, waiting for the other to make the first move. But the damage had been done, and the Apprentice limped and dragged his body in pain while the Death Eater was in perfect condition and gloating.

Ginny stared at the mirror in horror. "He's hurt!"

"What do you expect," Neville hissed sharply. "He's fighting Death Eaters. If there's anything those idiots want more than you and your friends right now, it is to hurt Mort."

"Why?" Ginny asked in bemusement and with sudden vehemence at the betrayal she felt with the revelation that her friend was actually the Dark Apprentice. "Isn't he one of them as well! Aren't you!"

Neville looked at her with a raised eyebrow. With a biting tone, he snapped, "Do not presume to know anything about me or my brother. We are nothing like those fools who would be raping you right now." He turned his attention back at the mirror, and couldn't help but cry out on seeing Mort lie on the ground, surrounded in a pool of crimson, his wand in the hands of his opponent.

_Your wand is your life. Lose it and you are dead._

"No!" Neville jumped up.

Hermione looked aghast at the horrible image in the mirror and turned her face away. Her eyes caught the agony in Neville's face and before she could stop herself, her hands reached out and touched his shoulder in comfort.

Mort was indeed in a terrible condition. He had lost his wand and was lying face down, immersed in his own blood. Two cutting curses had hit him, one on his right shoulder and the other grazed past his abdomen. The pain mingled with the rising din of cheers from the Death Eaters as Rodolphus raised his hand in acknowledgement. But Mort wasn't done.

Clenching his teeth and with the barest movement without so much as lifting his head, he drew a figure with his right index finger on the pool of blood, a complex and intricate rune intended for the most desperate of circumstances. Rodolphus was barely ten feet away when Mort suddenly raised his head. The Death Eater stopped on his tracks and the shouting stopped.

When the Blue Fire blood rune was completed, the pool of blood around the diagram sizzled with heat and darkened in color and then there was a flash of light. All the blood on the ground had turned into a deep dark blue metallic liquid, and a small ball shot out of the rune, a small sphere of blue electric fire, inches from Mort's face. The Apprentice glared at his adversary in fury and with no movement at all, willed the ball of flames towards him.

Rodolphus stared wide eyed and ducked, the blue flames singeing his hair and scalp. He let out an agonizing yell at the pain. It was many times more intense than the cruciatus. And it wasn't over. A second ball had risen from the pool of blood before the fallen Apprentice as he stared at the Death Eater.

The Death Eater sneered, and flicked his wand, yelling, "Avada Ke…" the sphere of electricity came straight at him and before he could move, his wand was burnt. He looked around searchingly and located Flint's wand nearby and ran to pick it up. Turning, he recoiled in fear.

Mort was no longer lying on the floor. The heat and power of the Blue Fire had charged his blood temporarily and given him enough strength to get up. He wasn't alone. Four blue ominous balls whirled around him, spinning in perfect coordination, as if protecting the boy.

"Yield or you will know how it feels to have your heart burnt to cinders!" Mort hissed menacingly. "You might kill me, but the Blue Fire will get you as well - first your eyes, then your nose, and then your heart! Yield!" He raised his hand and one of the balls came within his grasp, looming a feet in front of his palm, hovering straight and vertical.

The Death Eater knew he was beaten. With a cry of outrage, he threw the wand and walked out of the duel ring. There was complete silence as he left and all eyes were fixed on the Apprentice, standing resolutely despite his injuries, the four balls continuing to revolve around him. No one dared to open their mouths. They had witnessed power unlike any imaginable. The Apprentice had shown his worth, and his wrath.

Mort picked up his two wands and walked to his Master. He bowed, without dispelling the four balls that charged his blood and kept him on his feet. With a blank expression, he said, "I have won, Master."

The Dark Lord regarded him with a strange expression which Mort couldn't place. A combination of anger mixed with a hint of sadness and fear shrouded in pride. "You have, Apprentice," the Dark Lord said quietly. "You may choose the three girls you most want." Then in a tone fraught with danger, he continued, "If any of them should disappear, I will personally hold you responsible. You will not like it."

Nodding, Mort turned and walked back to the chamber, bloody and bruised but with the vigor provided by the raging inferno around him. He didn't falter once or spare a second glance back as he reached the entrance and opened the door. Entering, he saw the awe and concern in Neville's face and to his surprise, tears. Neville was leaning against Hermione, with Ginny on the floor nearby, her face wet and red. The rest of the girls weren't in sight.

"Cricket!" he called. Instantly, Cricket appeared.

"Master Mort, you is hurt," the house elf wailed in dismay. "Let Cricket get some potions for you…"

"Cricket," Mort interrupted her with a wave of his hand. "Later. Where are the other girls?"

"Cricket saw they were in pain and took them to the inner chambers to heal and bathe. Cricket didn't do wrong?" the house elf asked in fear.

"No Cricket," Mort said kindly. "You did fine. Bring the girls out in five minutes. I will call you when I want dinner." The house elf disappeared with a pop, leaving Mort alone with Neville and the two girls.

"You are hurt," a voice called out and Mort turned to see that Ginny had approached him. Neville stared at him from a distance, having lost his ability to talk or move. The girl approached him cautiously and sat next to him on the floor, keeping a safe distance from the balls of fire.

Mort looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry for not…"

"Hush," the girl said. "Not now."

Mort tried smiling but failed. "Tell me," he said quietly in a hoarse whisper, "If only three of you could be saved… who should they be?"

The girl looked away, and for a long time there was silence. Then she spoke quietly, "Hermione, Cho and Dennis Creevey."

"Why them?" Mort asked curiously. "Why not you?"

The girl stared at the floor and spoke in a quiet voice, "Hermione's the most brilliant witch in Hogwarts. It would be a shame for her to die or become insane from torture. Cho's the most delicate among us. She has already suffered enough. And… D-Dennis is the youngest. I… I… It would be cowardly of me to ask for my own life before those of my friends'."

"Ginny… Ginny Weasley, my beautiful friend," Mort muttered, savoring her name. "You would not last an hour. There are many out there who would have you just to dishonor the Weasley name. It wont be like the Slytherin House anymore. Not even Malfoy and Snape would be able to save you." He turned to her and asked, "If you had a choice, to die tonight after being tortured relentlessly, or to live a prisoner in these chambers however indefinitely, what would you choose?"

"I… I don't know," the girl responded, confused by her own answer. "I should… I would have said I'd rather die than be a prisoner," then she looked into the boy's haunting emerald eyes. "But now I don't know." Despite the situation, the two seemed to draw in closer and closer until, they could hear the sound of the other's breath clearly. The balls of fire had backed away and were whirling a few feet above their heads. Mort leant down, mesmerized by the girl's pink lips and… sprang apart on hearing footsteps in the distance. He sighed as the rest of the girls appeared and arrayed themselves as before. The Dark Lord appeared soon after, followed by Rodolphus Lestrange.

Mort stood up and called out, "Granger, Chang and Weasley, stay. The rest of you follow the Dark Lord." Turning to the Dark Lord, he said emotionlessly, "You would be well served in knowing that one of them is related to Amelia Bones and two belong to prominent pureblood families." He didn't keep his gaze fixed on his Master and barely registered his quiet words, "I will be sending Severus, Apprentice," as he turned to Neville who was still staring at him from the distance. Mort understood what the look on his face meant. Neville knew how close he had come to losing his brother.

As footsteps receded in the distance, Mort gazed vacantly into space. Ginny touched his cheek tenderly, not caring about the bloody mess. "You tried," she said calmly, and walked to her other friends.

"What now?" the brown haired girl asked fearfully.

"You are to stay here within these chambers. If you leave, you will be seen and killed, or worse. If you stay, you will receive clean clothes, sufficient food and reading material. You will not be given a wand but you can make potions under supervision. If you wish, you can learn much in my company," he said slowly, his strength oozing out rapidly. He panted heavily. "Go… now... All of you… You don't w-want to see this. C-Cricket!" He gasped as the house elf arrived. "G-Get S-Sever-rus," and he released the Blue Fire.

Instantly, his vision clouded and his head filled with unimaginable pain. "AAARGHH!" he shouted ceaselessly, thrashing violently, and then he fainted.

---------

Mort stirred. Opening his eyes, he saw Ginny looking at him from the side of his bed where he was rested. Then the feeling came back to his muscles and he groaned in pain.

"Here, drink this," the redhead picked a vial of potion from the bedside table. "Professor Snape said this will relieve you of pain but not to give you until you woke up." She helped the boy get up a bit and tilted the vial at his lips. Seeing him grimace in pain, she gave him her hand to clutch on to.

Mort dragged his body and rested his head against her abdomen and panted.

"Does it hurt?" the girl asked in concern.

Mort nodded, blinking back tears. He knew it would. The Dark Lord had warned him, Snape had warned him. The blood runes always took much more than they gave. He knew it, and he knew he had no other option.

"I'm here, Mort," Ginny said softly, moving her fingers through the boy's hair. "For as long as you need me." Those were the last words he heard as his consciousness drifted away to oblivion, his face feeling the warmth of the girl's body.

When Mort woke, he was surprised to find Ginny still in the same position. She was asleep, but evidently uncomfortable. She hadn't moved at all. He dragged his body away and got up. He was still in pain but he could bear it now.

Gently, he moved Ginny to a comfortable position and lowered her body. Pulling the covers over her, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He felt a sudden urge to kiss her again but he restrained himself. He walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a clean set of white robes and went to the bath.

Before he shut the door, he saw a huddled figure on the floor. It was Cho and she was still crying.

Sighing, Mort walked to the weeping Oriental girl and sat next to her. She gazed at him in fear and shrank back. Mort moved a bit closer and said softly, "Look, I want you to know. Nobody in my chamber will touch you without your permission." The girl stared back disbelievingly and shouted, "Go away!" and Mort threw his hands back in despair. Every fiber of his body was in fire with pain, and he didn't have an ounce of patience left.

"How do I convince you? Listen, if I wanted to rape you, I wouldn't have waited so long. You don't like it but you're staying here. That's the way it's going to be until someone comes to rescue you. So you might as well stop fearing me."

Cho shrank further back in fear and started sobbing even louder.

"Class, Mort," the voice of Draco Malfoy came sarcastically from behind. "Did you really expect that to work?"

"Draco, I could do with some help and less sarcasm," Mort gasped out in pain. "I need a bath desperately. The smell of blood is making me nauseous. There are three girls in here who need comforting. There are others outside who are beyond any help. And I have no idea what to do."

"You can start with the bath," Draco suggested helpfully, walking to the Asian girl. He pulled the white robes from Mort's hands and said, "You don't need these," and placed them around the girl. Then he talked to her in whispers for a few minutes, and to Mort's surprise, she stood up with Draco's help and the two of them walked out.

Nearly half an hour later, Mort emerged in clean robes and saw a strange sight. The table had been enlarged and all the others were sitting around it. There were several loaves of bread and cold meat on the table, and a jug of pumpkin juice.

Mort nodded approvingly. He didn't think any of them would be able to stomach something more substantial right then. He took his place next to Ginny and tore a chunk of the bread. Before he could eat, he felt the redhead's hand on his free hand, and he turned to her.

She opened her mouth and said, "We all said some nasty things, Mort. We're sorry…"

"Hush," Mort whispered hoarsely, squeezing her hand. "Just eat."

After the meal, Mort felt fatigued once again and walked to his chamber, helped by Ginny. She helped him get to the bed just as he had helped her a while ago. But to his great surprise, instead of leaving him there, she climbed in next to him, and sat upright with Mort's head resting against her as before.

"You don't h-have to," Mort gasped out. "I'm f-f-fine..."

"Hush," Ginny interrupted, stroking his hair tenderly once again. "Just sleep." And then she started humming. Mort recognized the song. It was the same soft melody they had danced to several years ago at the Ministry Gala. His lips curled in a smile and his eyes closed once again as he drifted off to sleep in Ginny's arms.


	7. Chapter 6

**Author****'****s Note:** Here's Chapter 6, long overdue. My least favorite chapter of the story, as it depicts Mort in his most vulnerable moments. Sorry for the delay with my updates. For those who are interested, I have given details about the timeline of my stories being updated in my profile page.

As usual, reviews greatly appreciated.

**CHAPTER 6**

For the next two days, the three girls stayed in Mort's chamber. He had created separate rooms in the stone outer hall and enlarged the interior for each of them but Ginny had insisted on staying with Mort even after he claimed to have been healed. She didn't believe him when he claimed to be fine. So he had transfigured a chair into another bed.

Neville would join him early in the morning and leave late in the night to his own quarters. Draco was staying at Malfoy Manor as Hogwarts had been closed since the raid on Hogsmeade and the capture of students. Parents just didn't feel Hogwarts was safe enough. Mort shook his head when Draco relayed that piece of news to him. Hogwarts was the safest place in all of Britain, and the closing of the school meant it could function as a full-time Headquarters for the Order.

But Cho would look forward to Draco's visit eagerly. He was the only person to whom she would talk, and that too in silent whispers.

Hermione and Ginny got along well with both Mort and Neville, and the muggleborn would often badger Mort to teach her some of the more complicated magic, especially after seeing his skill with runes. Mort would comply reluctantly as even the bare idea of looking at runes often made his stomach churn. But he would accommodate Hermione's curiosity until Ginny would cart him back to his room to rest. Or rather, under the excuse of resting.

The first time she did that, Mort had argued, "I'm fine! I don't need to rest."

But instead of responding, the redhead dragged him to his room and closed the door. Then leaning forward, she grabbed his head and kissed him. "For saving my life in Hogsmeade," she whispered, drawing her head back slightly. Then she kissed him again, "For making the Slytherins treat me nicely." Then she kissed him again, "For what happened... recently."

Mort looked at her in a daze. He licked his lips in relish and complained, "You forgot the diary. That was the most dangerous bit."

Giggling, Ginny leaned forward, but Mort grabbed her head and kissed her, and instead of a quick kiss, he opened their lips and went in deep.

"For taking care of me," he whispered breathlessly after more than a minute.

"Oh, Mort," she moaned and plunged in again.

Savoring the taste of the redhead, Mort ran his fingers along her silky hair and smooth back. The girl collapsed in his arms and he held her tightly. He led her to his bed and the girl complied, but hesitated at the last second, "Mort," she whispered with a troubled look in her face.

"Hush," he replied. "Just lie next to me tonight. I want to keep holding you." And they slept beside each other that night, and the next, until the rescue party arrived.

It was Nagini who first brought Mort news of trouble stirring in the outer defenses of the manor.

"_Beware, little massster,"_ the serpent hissed, interrupting Mort as he showed the three girls how to cut gemstones finely using a wand. _"There is trouble brewing outside."_

"_What's happening, Nagini?"_ Mort asked curiously, ignoring the startled looks from the three girls. They were too shocked to notice his Parseltongue in the Death Retreat. Shrugging at them, he waited for Nagini to respond.

"_The spy has revealed his true colors. He has brought rescue parties to free the prisoners."_

Mort jumped up and turned to the girls. "Get ready. There is a rescue attempt." Turning to Neville, he ordered, "You too, we might have to fight our way past the sentries." To Nagini, he asked, _"__How far are they? How many sentries are guarding the path between us and them? And the other prisoners__…__ do they still live?__"_

"_I shall lead you to them, little massster. You will face a few imbeciles, but nothing to worry about. The other prisoners are in the Death Retreat, and too far gone for you to risk the onesss in your care. Will you leave as well?" _the serpent asked with slight hesitation, and to Mort's surprise, evident grief.

"_How can you say that, Nagini? This is my home," _he hissed firmly, touching the serpent tenderly. _"And the Dark Lord is my family. But I will take the prisoners to safety."_

"_He will not be pleased," _the serpent hissed.

Mort nodded. _"__That cannot be helped. I will face his wrath and punishment. But I cannot avoid doing this.__"_

He grabbed Ginny's hand and rushed forward. Hermione and Cho followed behind, and Neville at the rear end. Nagini led them through a complex route, far from the Death Retreat, and Mort had to stun a few young Death Eaters on his way. It wasn't much of a challenge as their attention was fixed in the opposite direction.

Finally, he saw them. The Order of the Dragon members coming their way and led by the spy.

"Bill!" Ginny cried out, letting go of Mort and running to her brother's embrace. He was right in front of Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. In the distance, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Frank Longbottom had engaged several Death Eaters, allowing their comrades to proceed ahead.

"Thank Merlin you are safe, Ginny," her brother cried. Then he turned to Mort. "Thank you for looking after her."

Mort gave a curt nod. "You have them," he said coldly. "Now leave. The others are in the Death Retreat. You know where that is."

Ignoring Ginny's confused look, Bill gently pushed his sister to the one-eyed ex-Auror and shook his head. He said sadly, "Another team is going for them. Our mission is to take you with us. I am sorry."

Mort instantly drew his wand out and snapped, "You know what I am capable of, Weasley. Be glad that I am allowing you to leave with the prisoners."

Bill raised his hands and sighing, said, "I do know what you are capable of, Lord Apprentice, but you are not aware what Dumbledore and his new Order are capable of."

"What do you mean?" Mort asked with a growing unease.

Bill opened his mouth but instead of speaking, he turned and retreated to join the battle with the Death Eaters. Mort looked at him in confusion but Moody broke in, "He doesn't have the courage to say it in front of his sister. But if you care for this girl, then you will surrender to me."

"What?" Mort yelled in disbelief.

Moody grinned. "The purpose today wasn't to rescue the prisoners but to capture you. We knew you would keep the girl safe."

Mort watched in horror as Moody jabbed his wand at Ginny's back and ignoring her screams, held her tightly by the arm. He looked at the disbelief in Ginny's eyes as she searched for her brother helplessly, and then turned to Mort. She looked lost and scared.

But during that moment of indecision when Mort's attention was fixed on the girl, a red jet of light came at lightning speed from the tall and dark Auror and he felt everything going black. The last thing he remembered was Ginny screaming his name.

The Dark Lord was right. He succumbed to his weakness.

--

Mort woke up and blinked. His head was hurting. Without thinking, he croaked, "Cricket! Headache potion, please." Then he remembered the disastrous events that led to his capture and jumped up. To his dismay, his hands and legs were tied to the bed. He thrashed violently, screaming like one possessed.

"Silencio!" a voice called out and Mort's screams subsided, though his attempts to release himself did not.

"Your attempts are futile, young Mortimer. Finite."

Mort turned his head to the voice and saw the white beard of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and knew he was trapped. If he was a prisoner of Dumbledore in Hogwarts, then perhaps not even his Master would be able to free him. With that thought, he ceased all motion and whispered hoarsely, "You will regret this, old fool."

"Come now, Mr. Thomas, or is it Mr. Riddle?" Dumbledore said musingly. "There is no need to be so melodramatic. I mean you no harm."

Mort snorted. "Then explain this," he hissed, glancing sideways at his binds.

"A mere precautionary measure," Dumbledore explained. "Do not worry. We will have them removed soon."

Something in the way he said 'soon' put Mort on an edge. He was wary of the old wizard. But he shrugged as best as he could while lying on the bed and closed his eyes. "Then we have nothing else to discuss until then," he said coolly.

He closed his eyes and emptied his mind, drowning out all other noises to try and not worry too much about his Master's reaction on discovering his capture. It was peaceful for a short while until he felt a sharp jab of pain on both his wrists. With a yelp, he tried to get up, and to his surprise, he was free. He looked around. Dumbledore was standing in front with a serene smile which seemed rather out of place to Mort. There were several others around him, but he didn't pay attention. He raised his right wrist and frowned. There was a black band around it. A similar band was around his left wrist as well.

"Magic Suppressors," Dumbledore explained. "I am indeed sorry to do this, my boy, but we cannot have you attempt to escape. They cannot be removed through any ordinary means - magic or muggle, so you will be best served in not even attempting to find a way."

Mort looked at Dumbledore blankly. "That is not all."

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "The bands are keyed into the wards of Hogwarts. If you go beyond them," Dumbledore paused, but the meaning was very clear to Mort, "Lets just say, I wouldn't recommend that. But you can roam freely in and around the Castle. It's a huge estate."

Mort sighed. He was trapped. "What is the purpose of all this? Am I a hostage for the Dark Lord? If so, then you are wasting your time. His life is worth much more than mine."

"No, my boy," Dumbledore said kindly. "You are not a hostage. No demands will be made for your return. I am truly sorry to restrain you like this, but you give us no other choice. But our aim is for you to join us. You will stay with us until you realize that you actually belong with us, not with the Death Eaters."

Mort looked at the Headmaster blankly. He had no idea what he was talking about. Mort never belonged with the Death Eaters. Nor did he belong with Dumbledore. He belonged solely with the Dark Lord, the man who paid attention to him as a lonely child. But he didn't say any of that. Instead, he shifted his attention to Bill Weasley.

"How is she?" he asked simply. He nearly frowned when Dumbledore's smile deepened at his query, but managed to keep his expressions blank.

The uncovered spy shifted uneasily and, Mort was pleased to see, turn red with shame. But he met the Apprentice's eyes resolutely and said quietly, "She is unhappy… but she is safe."

"You will be glad to learn that all the prisoners have been rescued," Dumbledore said calmly. "And some of them are being given the best treatment available, both physical and emotional."

Mort nodded. He fixed his judgmental gaze on the whole crowd, which seemed to be observing him with great interest, and said, "I have never killed before. But if ever I am free of this," he raised his hands and clanged his shackles together in a rage so terrible that it didn't even manage to reach his detached face, "I swear by everything I hold dear, I will destroy the one who threatened her that night." He looked dispassionately at a furious Moody, who instantly whipped his wand out but was restrained by Bill and Arthur Weasley.

Mort looked each and every person in the eye. The two Weasleys looked at him sadly, as if regretting their actions. Dumbledore seemed pleased. James Potter looked at him with slight suspicion but he also held a look of respect and admiration. Lily Potter, to Mort's dismay, was also present and looked at him with grieving and puffed up eyes. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Fabian Prewett, Julia Prewett, the Longbottoms and the other professors of Hogwarts looked at him with a wide array of emotions - from hate to pity, from fear to indifference. Mort ignored them all and zoomed straight to Severus Snape, who had his usual cold and detached face, which was mirrored identically by the young Apprentice.

Turning, Mort whisked out of the door and left the Hospital Wing. He wasn't followed. There was no need to. He was harmless and in no condition to escape.

He walked in a straight line, unheeding and uncaring. He had no idea of the route but somehow he managed to find an empty corridor, away from all the stares and whisperings. But the moment he took a step closer, a figure rose from the shadows. Mort blinked in disbelief. It was the Dark Lord.

"M-Master," he gasped in disbelief. There was no way he could have come to Hogwarts.

But the dark and menacing form of his Master gazed at him in quiet fury and disgust. "You have failed me, Apprentice."

"Master," Mort said unevenly, falling to his knees. "Please forgive me. I accept my punishment."

The Dark Lord disregarded his Apprentice's show of respect and repeated, "You have failed me, boy, and I do not have any punishment for you. You do not belong with me anymore." The Dark Lord stared deep into Mort's eyes and continued, "There is no room for any weaknesses by my side. You would place the lives of my enemies before my vision. You are a disgrace to me and I should never have taken you in. Return to those who abandoned you. Go, become somebody else's weakness." The Dark Lord turned his back to his Apprentice. "You do not belong with me."

"No, Master," Mort whimpered pitifully, covering his face with his hands. "Please forgive me. Don't leave me… Master, I…" he pleaded pitifully. "I cannot live without you. Please Master, do not abandon me…"

"You do not belong with me! Go, become somebody else's weakness…"

It was only when a voice shouted, "Riddikulus!" and the form of the Dark Lord instantly vaporized that Mort fell out of his stupor of misery. Wiping the tears off his face, he rounded on the assembled members of the Order woefully.

"You did this deliberately!" he accused sadly, getting up. "Are you happy now?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth but faltered. His only desire was to determine the fears of the boy, to use to manipulate him, but the pure anguish in front of him was too terrible to behold. He turned to the rest of his supporters and felt his own quandary mirroring off them. The boy loved the Dark Lord as a father. Everyone who saw Mort's grief was left astounded, unable to comprehend how someone could love a megalomaniac like Voldemort like he did.

Mort walked out in a daze. The Castle felt like a prison to him, which it was. He walked until he found himself beside a huge lake. He tried transforming into his eagle form, but failed. In frustration, he clawed at the bands on his wrists with no effect.

Finally having worked through some of his frustration, he sat down and stared at the setting sun. It was bright red while the skies were a deeper crimson. A grim breeze brushed against his face, but he didn't care. It was then that he realized he had been followed.

Three redheads came into sight and stopped near him. Lily Potter stood at a distance and allowed Arthur Weasley to approach Mort, with a plump woman at his side who was clearly his wife. Mort looked at them and turned aside.

"We… we wish to thank you, Mortimer," the female Weasley said hesitatingly, "for keeping our daughter safe. We saw the duel in Albus' pensieve, and Albus extracted some memories from Ginny too."

Mort looked at her coldly. "Were you aware of this plan to use Ginny as bait to get me?"

Her mother blanched at the accusation and shook her head vehemently, but Arthur Weasley lowered his gaze. His wife rounded at him instantly. "A-Arthur, you knew? You…"

"They didn't ask me, dear. They told me after Ginny and the others had been taken… Dumbledore didn't intend for so many to be captured… they only intended for Ginny to be the one… the DA acted foolishly… I couldn't tell you earlier… I couldn't believe it myself that Bill would..." he trailed off.

Mort sighed. "Then I will accept your thanks. But leave me for now." He looked away again and hoped desperately that Lily Potter would also leave. He couldn't bear the thought of a second rejection from the same woman - his birth mother. But she didn't leave.

"Mort," she said hesitatingly.

Mort didn't look at her. He fixed his gaze at the sunset. He heard her moving closer and sit beside him uncertainly, and felt tears come to his eyes. He shifted his back to the woman and said, "I understand. I won't bother Emily again." As he said his sister's name, his emotions gave way. He had truly lost everything. His eyes began flooding with tears and his back suddenly lurched.

"Oh, Mortimer," Lily said sadly, draping her arms around the crying boy and pulling him closer. "Don't be foolish," she scolded half-heartedly. "Why shouldn't you bother your own little sister?"

Mort paused. Blinking back his tears he tore himself from his unheeding mother's arms and stared at her in disbelief. "You would allow me to still know her, knowing that I am none other than the Dark Lord's Apprentice?"

Lily sighed. She patted his shoulder comfortingly and said, "I once made the mistake of treating an innocent boy with unjustified prejudice… no, I have known you for years, though mostly through correspondence. But I know how much you care for Emily. Why should it be a problem?"

"Because I am evil," Mort pointed out.

Lily swatted his head lightly. "Don't be daft, Mort. Nobody thinks you are evil. If they do, then they are fools. Bill and Severus have told everyone about you in much detail. There are many who respect you. Some fear you, yes, but most fear your attempt to escape. Some are still suspicious but for the most part…" she leaned forward and kissed his forehead, "Seeing how you stood up for the prisoners, you are well-liked. Understand this, Mort, Ginny is here, and so is Emily. Why do you want to leave? You belong here, with us."

Her words, meant to soothe his hurting soul, instead incensed him terribly. How dare that woman try to show affection to Mortimer when the very reason Mortimer came into being was her disaffection towards her own son. His fingers trembling, he pushed her away roughly and shouted angrily, "I belong with the Dark Lord!" and got up.

"I belong with the Dark Lord!" he repeated and ran as far as he could from his mother.

"I belong with the Dark Lord," he repeated like a mantra to keep him safe in enemy territory and walked heedlessly around the green grass.

"I belong with the Dark Lord!" he shouted as a figure approached him.

"Of course you do," a harsh voice spat out though Mort didn't pay any attention. The person whipped their wand out and pointed at an uncaring Mort. He didn't even notice the person's identity, while chanting his newfound mantra.

"Sectumsempra!" the voice said, and walked away.

--

Mort grimaced. His entire body was hurting. For a second, he thought he had foolishly used blood runes again, twice in a short time, but he couldn't recollect any memories of such a situation. In fact, the last thing he remembered was sitting by the lake with Lily Potter. He frowned. He could hear her voice. It was muffled and yet it sounded as if she was screaming.

"I don't care, Dumbledore," she was screaming. "You will remove those damn… things from his wrists now!"

"That is not an option, my dear…"

"He nearly died," she continued in a high pitch. "_He nearly died!_ Somebody is trying to kill him and has struck once! You can't leave him defenseless!"

Mort frowned. Somebody tried to kill him? Grunting, he tried to open his eyes, but couldn't. With surmounting anxiety, he reached for his face and shuddered. It was plastered all over.

"He's awake," the welcome voice of Ginny Weasley whispered and he felt soft fingers clutching his own. "It's me, Mort. It's Ginny."

"Mort!" another female voice squealed and he felt the pressure of something dropping next to him on his bed. "Big brother!"

Despite the plasters, he smiled and despite Ginny's protests, got up. "Emmy!" he said groggily and it came out highly muffled. He reached forward and felt the small form of his sister huddle next to him.

"Careful, Emily," her mother said hastily. "He's hurt."

Mort frowned. Somebody tried to kill him… He recalled the events of earlier and shook his head. The Boggart wasn't the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord wouldn't abandon him so mercilessly. And he shuddered at his own loss of control, the person reacting to Lily Potter's words was not his Master's Apprentice. Had he lost control of his emotions to such an extent? The Dark Lord wouldn't be pleased. Then he shuddered. The Dark Lord wouldn't be pleased about several things. But still, he yearned to return home to his chamber in Riddle Manor.

With sudden determination, he reached for his face and tore the plasters, unheeding the many protests. It stung and he knew his skin would be very raw, so he tried transforming himself using his Metamorphmagi skill, unsure if it would work with the Magic Suppressors.

But it did work and Mort smiled inside his mind. It was an intrinsic skill he was born with unlike the Animagus transformation. Just like Parseltongue. Bringing his attention back to the people around him, he realized they were still protesting his removal of the plaster and also expressing surprise at his completely healed face.

"Mort!" Emily squealed while waving her hand in front of his face, and he realized she had been calling his name for a while.

Smiling, he put his arms around her and said, "Have you been a good girl, Emmy?"

"Yes!" his sister replied happily. "Are you going to stay?"

Mort darted his head up instantly to look at Lily Potter. She was looking at him hopefully. Without even bothering to look at Dumbledore, he turned to Ginny, who averted his gaze. Frowning, he squeezed her hand, and responded to his sister, "For now, Emmy, for now."

Then he turned to Dumbledore and said scathingly, "You employ different means, but in the end, how are you any better than the Dark Lord?" When Dumbledore gaped at him in shock, Mort continued, "At least, those who die for the Dark Lord are adults. They do so willingly. You would sacrifice innocent students just to get me? And you expect me to simply embrace you, old fool?" He stood up menacingly, beckoning Ginny to take Emily away from him.

"I am warning you now, Dumbledore, for the first and final time," Mort hissed. "Let me go… or the wrath of my Master will destroy the very foundations of this Castle, and not even I will be able to stop the blood of the innocents from flowing."

"And there you have your difference," Dumbledore said calmly. "He would take innocent lives, while I would protect them."

Mort threw his head back and laughed. "Just as you protected Dennis Creevey?" He looked at Ginny and his eyes narrowed. In a voice that was barely more than a whisper, he said, "Just as you protected Ginny?"

"We had full faith in you, my boy, to keep Ginny safe. It wasn't misplaced," Dumbledore continued in the same composed manner. "Dennis and the others were an unfortunate mishap. They shouldn't have been there at all."

Mort sighed. "We could continue all day and reach no conclusion. Will you remove these shackles from around my hands?"

"Not until you have realized that you truly belong on our side," Dumbledore said calmly.

Shaking his head, Mort walked towards the door, "Then I warn you, Dumbledore, beware the wrath of the Dark Lord. You might think him cruel, you might think him merciless, and when it comes to the liberation of his Apprentice, you would be absolutely accurate."

As he left the room, he heard a shuffle of feet, and Ginny ran after him.

Outside, she opened her mouth with grief-stricken eyes but Mort shook his head vehemently. "Do not blame yourself. Do not apologize. Just come with me." Taking her hand, he walked back to the lake.

For a long time, they didn't talk, merely enjoying each other's presence. The castle and its inhabitants seemed repulsive to both of them, and the lake seemed a much better alternative.

"Ginny, can you conjure a snake?" Mort asked suddenly after nearly half an hour of silence. He wanted to experiment his Parseltongue.

Nodding in confusion, Ginny brought her wand out. "Serpensortia," she said, conjuring an adder that hissed menacingly at the two of them.

Disregarding the snake's restlessness, Mort hissed sharply, _"__Do you hear me?__"_

The snake instantly froze and peered at Mort in surprise. _"You ssspeak? What isss your command, worthy massster?"_

"_Go to the Forbidden Forest and search for Nagini. Bring her to me."_ Mort observed the snake slither away in content. His Master would have certainly sent Nagini to his aid, or she would have come of her own accord. He saw Ginny observe him cautiously and he placed his hand on her wrist. She was the only person he trusted implicitly in the castle to stand beside him through everything he would be facing in the coming days.

"GINNY!" an annoyed voice shouted from a short distance, followed by a tall lanky redhead, clearly a Weasley, and a shorter but more muscular redhead. "What do you think you are doing with that Death Eater?" The tall redhead came closer with his wand out, and attempted to drag Ginny away.

"Leave me, Ronald," Ginny snapped. "You have no right to tell me what to do."

"Of course I do," Ron said patronizingly. "I'm your brother. Who else would keep you from consorting with such foul," he spat at Mort, "scum."

Slap.

Ginny's hand left a deep imprint on her brother's cheek and she turned to the other redhead. "Do you have any comments as well, Mr. Potter?"

Mort's eyes widened. It took him a while to recognize his own twin. He keenly observed Jake Potter squirm uncomfortably as his gaze fell on Ron's cheek and Ginny's curled fist.

"You have the right to make your own friends, Ginny," Jake said finally. "But for Merlin's Sake, that's the Dark Apprentice!"

"Your point?" Ginny asked with narrowed eyes that bore holes into both of them.

"How can you trust him?" Ron blurted out. "He's You Know Who's Apprentice."

Ginny took a deep breath and walked back to Mort. She grabbed his hand and whispered, "Let's go somewhere we won't be bothered by brainless gits." As Mort got up, she turned around and screamed, "I trust him because he saved me… he fought Death Eaters and You Know Who to protect me… while my own brother and the rest of the Order used me as a bait. My own family threw me away to Death Eaters and Mort saved me! I trust him more than I can ever trust any of you again."

"Hush," Mort whispered, wrapping her in his arms. He shot an icy glare at the two redheads and said, "You have no business here. Leave."

"Not without my sister," Ron yelled obstinately. "Let her go, you foul piece of…"

"Ron!" Jake interrupted, looking at Mort tenderly comfort the redhead. Sighing, he said, "Let's go."

"B-But, my sister?" Ron protested.

"She's much better off with him than she would be with us," Jake said with a longing sigh.

Mort observed his brother reluctantly walk away with Ron. He caught the final envious look thrown at him by the boy-who-lived and frowned. With an iron determination, he said, "They have taken everything away from me, but I'm not letting them take you as well, Ginny. Ever."

"_Little massster,"_ a welcome voice called out, and Mort jumped away from Ginny in delight, turning to the approaching form of the cobra.

"_Little massster,"_ Nagini hissed fondly as she crawled closer. _"A serpent is trapped in a Dragon's Lair."_

"_What would a serpent trapped in a Dragon's Lair do?"_ Mort asked Nagini as the serpent slithered up his legs and coiled around his waist.

The snake hissed appreciatively and coiled around the Apprentice's neck and shoulders. _"__A ssserpent trapped in a Dragon__'__s Lair would pretend to be a young Dragon itself, little massster. And while the Dragon is unheeding, the serpent would note its weakest chink and ssstrike… or escape.__"_

"_I understand, Nagini,"_ Mort hissed back. _"Tell Master I am sorry… and that I will make the best use of this situation. Tell him… tell him that I miss him."_

"_He misses you too, little massster," _the serpent hissed after several seconds of silence, continued, _"But he would never admit that to anyone, not even to himself."_

Mort nodded. Then he said, _"__There is something else a serpent can do in a Dragon__'__s Lair.__"_When Nagini looked at him curiously, he continued with a glint of steel in his voice, _"__A serpent can slither into the deepest corners of the lair that are inaccessible to the Dragon, and from there, it can destroy the Dragon! A Basilisk is, after all, a serpent itself.__"_

"_You have learnt well, little massster,"_ Nagini remarked as she returned to the grass, emitting a strange sound that was much similar to a mirthful laugh. Mort's eyes gleamed with anticipation when he saw the spot where Nagini had slunk, to see in the grass an item that sent shivers down his spine. His face split into a wide grin with the realization that the Dark Lord hadn't abandoned him. For, in the grass lay the diary of Tom Riddle.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Mort took a deep breath. In his hand was the diary of Tom Riddle. He was alone in his room, Ginny had told everyone he was in a bad mood and not to bother him for the rest of the evening. Hesitating, Mort firmed his grip on the quill in his hand and wrote in the diary:

_'My name is Mortimer Thomas Riddle, heir and apprentice of Lord Voldemort. I need help.'_ And then he waited. After what seemed like eternity but could be hardly more than a few minutes, words formed of their own accord in the diary, making Mort shiver.

_'How do I know you speak the truth? How do I know you are indeed my heir and apprentice?'_

Mort frowned thoughtfully and then he nodded. _'On my finger is a ring with the Peverell coat-of-arms, given to me by yourself. That ring is precious to you, as precious as this diary.'_

_'And I gave both to you… perhaps you speak the truth… What ails you, my heir?'_

_'I am trapped in Hogwarts by Albus Dumbledore. My magic is restrained and my life is bound to the estate of Hogwarts. I need leverage. I need the secret that you hide,'_ Mort scribbled furiously, his anger rising with every word he wrote of his situation. _'I wish to return to your side.'_

_'I understand. Ordinarily, I would take full control over your mind. I would possess you and use your life force to feed my own existence…'_

Mort shivered and half decided to throw the diary away. The Dark Lord had often warned him to stay away from the diary, among certain objects, claiming that not even he would be able to prevent what might happen should Mort be reckless. But his situation was desperate.

_'I would gladly stand aside and give you everything, Master.'_

_'Your hand trembles, not with deceit but with fear. It is a fear, but not for your life… it is a fear I do not understand.'_

_'I fear to displease you, Master. Your other self, the one who raised me and taught me everything I know.'_ Mort wrote back. _'I would gladly give my life to you but I fear the other you, my Master, would be displeased with my choice.'_

For a long time, there was no response. Then words began forming.

_'Very well. I have decided. I will part with my secret without harming you. In the second floor, there is a girl's toilet… No more will I say to you. If you are truly my heir, you will discover the secret. Go alone and speak the noble tongue.'_

Mort frowned but the diary would reveal no more to him. Making sure that no one was following him, he walked to a quiet part of the castle where there were no portraits or statues to observe him and quickly used his metamorphmagus power to alter his appearance. Thinking carefully, he chose to adopt the appearance of Ron Weasley before rushing out in a frenzy. He noted how the portraits glanced at him without any real interest and he smiled in his head.

Hesitating for a moment, Mort entered the girl's toilet and looked around with confusion as he reverted back to his usual form. He ran from corner to corner, trying to locate anything remotely singular about the toilet and he stopped with a start at seeing the sink. The tap was in the shape of a snake's head.

_"Open,"_ he hissed, suddenly making sense of the diary's instructions. With a soft rumble, a secret entrance showed itself and Mort gasped. "Good luck to me," he muttered and jumped in.

He felt he was rushing down an endless slide. There were pipes branching off in all directions, which twisted and turned and Mort knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. And then, just as he had begun to wonder how far it would go, he hit the ground as the pipe leveled out, and he shot out of the end, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel.

"The Chamber of Secrets," said Mort out loud, with a quiver of fear. "I wish I had my magic with me." The tunnel was absolutely quiet and dark, and as he walked, he came across the skin of a serpent.

"Basilisk," he spoke out loud again. "No wonder Master cares little about attacking Hogwarts. It's as if he could come here any day and become Lord of the Castle." His confidence grew and he smiled. "And in his absence, it will be I who commands the serpent." And so he came before a gigantic stone hall and his eyes widened in surprise. His own chambers at home were designed similar to the Chamber of Secret. Gaining more confidence, he looked at the massive stone face of Salazar Slytherin, which clearly appeared to be the entrance of another secret passage and he spoke out loud in parseltongue, _"Open!"_

When nothing happened, Mort took out the diary again and scribbled on it.

_'How do I get Salazar Slytherin to speak to me?'_

_'Try asking,'_ the diary wrote back, almost as if smirking. Then more words came, _'The basilisk is bound to obey you but it could kill you before you make any command.'_

Mort shook his head and fixed his eyes on Slytherin's face and bellowed in Parseltongue, _"Speak to me, Salazar Slytherin!"_

To his surprise and joy, a deep rumble resounded and Mort could hear something move within. He took a deep breath and waited.

_"Rip! Tear! Kill! I am hungrrrrry…"_

Mort took a step back with sudden anxiety, worrying what would happen should the basilisk decide he was food. Summoning every shred of courage he could and thinking of his Master, he gathered himself and stood in a manner similar to that of his Master.

_"Silence!"_ he said in a loud and cold voice. _"I am a speaker of the noble tongue. You will listen to me."_

It was then that the basilisk finally emerged from the opening and shot out towards Mort. _"Rip! Tear! Eat!"_

Mort, however, exercised every ounce of self control he could summon and held his ground. _"You will obey me! You will not hurt me in any manner whatsoever!"_ The basilisk stopped a mere few feet in front of Mort and fell to the ground.

_"Massster…"_

_"You will obey me. Can you access the entire castle through the pipes?"_

_"Yesss, Master."_

_"Can you follow my movement by smelling or sensing me?"_

_"Yesss, Master."_

_"Can you attack and hurt others without killing them?"_

_"Yesss, Master. I can petrify instead of kill."_

Mort smiled. He had a plan and he was ready. _"I want you to follow me through the castle wherever I go. I want you to always be on a sharp look-out for any new orders I give you. If anybody is about to attack me, you will hurt them first, without taking their lives. Is that clear?"_

_"Yesss, Master."_

Mort sighed in relief. If things went according to plan, he would be out of Hogwarts shortly. He smiled at the basilisk and for the first time noted how magnificent, if scary, the creature truly was. _"What is your name?"_

_"Name? What is this name?"_

Mort raised an eyebrow. _"What do people call you?"_

The basilisk slithered around the hall, almost as if in fury, before resting in front of Mort and with a hint of sadness replied,_ "Death. That is what I am called by your kind."_

_"And what do you call yourself?"_

The serpent raised its head and looked at Mort's face and replied, _"Hungry."_

Mort felt a sudden surge of sympathy for the serpent, knowing full well that his Master would have treated the basilisk as a mere tool. Tentatively, he reached forward and touched the snake's head. _"Both are unacceptable to me. I will call you Salarin after Salazar Slytherin, your first master. Is that acceptable?"_

_"Salarin is most grateful to you, Master,"_ the basilisk hissed mightily, seemingly prideful of its new name. With a sudden vigor, the serpent zoomed around the hall yet again before settling in front of Mort.

_"Very well."_ Saying that, Mort looked at the upward trail and frowned. Turning to the basilisk, he said, _"Can you lift me to the surface?"_ On hearing no response from the serpent as it lowered its head, Mort shrugged and climbed on top. Before he could steady himself, Salarin shot up the slide in tremendous speed, and Mort barely managed to hold on. Within moments, he reached the top and climbed back to the girl's toilet. He turned to the basilisk with a hint of fondness in his eyes and said, _"Follow me. Look after me. Do not kill. Tonight you may feast on the acromantula in the forest."_

He had barely stepped out when he heard a gasp from behind him.

"YOU!" a shrill girl's voice screamed and Mort turned around in surprise to see the ghost of a bespectacled girl - Moaning Myrtle, he recalled from Ginny's letters to him. "YOU!" With that, she flew out of the door and to the corridors. "MURDERER! HELP!"

Mort sighed and scribbled on the diary. _'Was Myrtle an old acquaintance of yours, Master? She ran away on seeing me, screaming murder.'_

_'Nosy, good-for-nothing, muggleborn slut. She tried blackmailing me into kissing her after seeing me in the girl's toilet. The basilisk was with me.'_

"This could work in my favor," muttered Mort to himself as he stepped out into the corridor and felt a bustle of activity around him. He calmly walked towards the direction where he could hear Myrtle's voice. When he arrived, he saw a large group had gathered - several members of the Order of the Dragon - some of whom looked warily at him. Mort, however, turned to Ginny and held his hand out, his eyes beckoning her to join him.

"Ginny!" Molly cried out when her daughter stepped away from the safety of the large group and took the hand of the Dark Lord's Apprentice.

Mort stroked the backside of Ginny's wrist tenderly before turning to Albus Dumbledore. "I am giving you one last chance, Dumbledore. Free my shackles or see your precious Order crumble to dust before the most carefully guarded secret of Hogwarts." Seeing the sudden spark of disbelief in Dumbledore's eyes and confusion everywhere else, Mort continued, "You know what I speak of, Dumbledore, the creature that took the life of Myrtle now acts at my behest. Free my shackles if you wish to prevent any more bloodshed."

"You have no idea what you have done," said Dumbledore sadly, raising his wand. "I tried to save you, to give you a second chance, but it appears I have failed. Stupefy!"

Mort pulled Ginny to him and managed to duck barely in time to avoid the spell. He raised an eyebrow as he picked himself and stood in a manner so reminiscing of the Dark Lord that it sent shivers all around.

_"Salarin,"_ he hissed in parseltongue, heightening the anxiety of everyone, _"Show yourself. Do not kill or hurt yet. Move around and disappear as fast as you can."_

To everyone's great shock, the very next instant, the walls ripped and a mighty creature - a monster in the eyes of everyone save Mort - emerged and after slithering around in great speed, encircling the Order of the Dragon, disappeared in the walls again.

"I have a basilisk under my command, Dumbledore. Should anything happen to me, no adult in this castle will have long to live."

"I knew it," shouted Moody from beside Dumbledore. "I told you, Albus. This boy is as far gone as You Know Who himself."

"Mort," Lily Potter called out in anguish but couldn't continue as James suddenly stepped in front of her.

"Do not give in to his demands," James said with confidence. "We will fight the basilisk. With Dumbledore on our side, we can defeat it."

Mort laughed. His eyes hadn't moved from Dumbledore even once. "In open battle, perhaps the great Albus Dumbledore and his followers might defeat a basilisk," he took a deep breath, "but I believe snakes have a reputation in this castle of not playing fair. How many lives will be lost, Dumbledore, before you finally manage to bring down the basilisk? How much of your glorious Order will be destroyed? What about your precious boy-who-lived? What if somehow accidentally - "

"Mort!" Lily cried out again. "Please, don't."

Mort took a deep breath and said, "There is another way. Free my shackles and give me, and Ginny should she wish to join me, safe passage outside the wards of Hogwarts and the basilisk will leave with me. Nobody will be hurt."

"You must be a fool if you think we'll give in to your demands!" someone bellowed angrily, raising his wand. Mort couldn't recognize him and hissed, _"Petrify!" _

In a movement of such great speed that even before the unknown member could finish his spell, Salarin struck and the basilisk's victim fell to the floor, paralyzed.

"Dedalus!" shouted some of the Order members in disbelief, fear and anguish.

"He is merely petrified. A potion made with Mandrake juice can revive him," said Mort over the din of shouts and whispers. "This was a warning. The next one might not be so lucky. Dumbledore, what will be your choice this time? How many will you sacrifice to keep me in your control?"

"Mortimer, you must see that you belong here," said Dumbledore, trying to bring the situation back under control. "Let go of this foolishness and all will be forgiven. We can start over afresh and - "

"My patience is running out, Dumbledore!" Mort hissed. He turned to Ginny and raised an eyebrow. No words were exchanged as Ginny nodded and clutched his hand firmly.

"I am leaving with Mort," said Ginny, to the shock of everyone present. "But -" She turned hesitatingly to Mort and muttered, "But I don't want to become a Death Eater."

"You will not have to," promised Mort. "I love the Dark Lord as a father but I will not let either you or myself become a Death Eater. But I will not stay here with these -" he fumbled to find the right word. "I will not stay here."

"And I will go with you," said Ginny firmly, not looking at the crying form of her mother. But just then, two shimmering white forms could be seen flying from different directions towards the group. Both Mort and Ginny frowned, Mort recognizing Snape's doe patronus making its way to him while Ginny recognized Bill' jackal patronus rushing towards Dumbledore.

"Death Eaters are attacking Hogsmeade," said the doe in Snape's voice. "The Dark Lord isn't aware but I doubt he'll intervene. Lucius and Bella are with me but they do not know how to save pureblood lives from being unnecessarily taken."

The jackal, meanwhile, said urgently, "Albus, you must bring the Order to Hogsmeade immediately. The Lestrange brothers are leading an attack unlike any other. Hundreds of Death Eaters, Dementors, Trolls… you must hurry!"

Mort raised his head urgently towards Dumbledore and said, "Release me and I can help."

"Surely, Albus, you can't trust this little -" Moody shouted out but was interrupted by a scream from Lily Potter.

"Emily!" she screamed. "She was visiting Hogsmeade with Minerva." She looked at James, who had frozen with fear, and then at Dumbledore, who seemed to have aged another hundred years. On seeing no flash of inspiration to aid her daughter coming from either source, she turned to Mort and said woefully, "Mort, please. Help Emmy."

Mort had frozen also on hearing that his little sister was in the middle of a Death Eater attack but Lily's urgent plea made his eyes flash with fury. What had he to fear from Death Eaters when he had a basilisk at command?

Something in his eyes gave away his idea to Lily, who instantly sprung to action as she rounded on Dumbledore with her wand raised. "Release him now, Dumbledore!" she snapped. "Release him, or I swear to heaven, I will make you fear me more than Voldemort!"

"Lily -" Dumbledore began but was interrupted.

"Release him," Lily said coolly, in a more controlled manner. "I should have been more forceful from the start, but no longer. You will release him now, Dumbledore, or my family will have nothing more to do with you and the Order."

Mort had frozen. He looked at Lily defend him and felt his childhood yearning taking form once again in his heart but he stifled it. _"No more weakness,"_ he hissed out loud. "Dumbledore, I command a basilisk and have the best chance to stop the Death Eaters."

"It appears that I have no other choice," said Dumbledore finally with a heavy sigh. "But how can I be certain that you will not side with the Death Eaters once I free you?"

Mort looked furious for a moment before finally realizing the sense behind the old wizard's words. Nodding, he said, "I will swear an oath to do so at the edge of Hogwarts wards." When Dumbledore nodded his agreement and started giving out orders to the others, coordinating their battle plans, Mort turned to Ginny and said, "I do not want you to be there but I know you will not have it any other way. But before we leave, I want to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"When you found out I was the Apprentice, you hated me," said Mort. He hushed Ginny before she could speak out. "Please let me finish. How would you react should you find out that I have kept yet another identity from you?"

Ginny looked at him curiously before asking, "Will the truth change how you feel for me?"

"No."

"There," she said firmly. "Then why should it change how I feel for you?"

"Thank you," said Mort with great relief. He tore his eyes from Ginny's face and saw that Lily, James and Jake Potter were standing at a short distance, giving them privacy, but clearly waiting for Mort.

Jake came first and he said, "I know I have been horrible to you. But please save my sister. Please, I beg you."

Mort nodded. "She's my sister too." They clasped hands and then Mort turned towards the exit, where Dumbledore was waiting.

"I will release all charms on your wrist band," Dumbledore said. "But there will be a one minute period in which you will have to take the oath. During this period, if I feel dissatisfied by your oath, the charms will resume. After the first minute, the band will lose all magic and you will be free of all compulsions. I, Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, give you this oath, on my life and magic." A white light emerged from Dumbledore's wand and surrounded his body. He then muttered an incantation and Mort's wrist band glowed golden.

While Dumbledore was chanting his magic, Mort hissed, _"Salarin! Come out here. Do not hurt anyone. We ride to battle."_ He ignored the gasps of shock and fear as the basilisk emerged and settled peacefully near Mort's legs.

"Now," said Dumbledore hurriedly as the glow on the wrist band became brighter.

Mort took a deep breath and looked at the three Potters. His eyes locked with Lily and something passed between them that made the witch gasp and clutch her heart. He then turned to Ginny with damp eyes. Then he turned to Dumbledore's frantic gaze and accepted his phoenix and holly wand and said firmly, "I will leave the wards of this castle to fight the Death Eater army in Hogsmeade. I will try my best to save any and all innocent lives that I can during the battle. I will try my best to save Emily Potter, even if I must die in the process." He paused to look at Dumbledore, who nodded appreciatively. "I, Harry James Potter, give you this oath, on my life and magic."

He closed his eyes, not seeing the reactions of his family, Dumbledore and Ginny as his oath took hold. Then, without a moment's hesitation, he climbed over the basilisk's head and hissed, _"To Hogsmeade and battle."_

--

The attack was unlike any Mort had witnessed before. Dozens of trolls were wreaking havoc in the village of Hogsmeade, destroying shops and houses and throwing aside any that came in their way. Dementors soared overhead, sinking the spirits of any who tried to retaliate. The Death Eaters were gathered in a semi circle perimeter of Hogsmeade, sending curses from time to time as they observed the chaos created by the trolls and dementors.

Slowly, the Order of the Dragon had gathered in a line standing in opposition to the Death Eaters. Spells were being exchanged as battle commenced. Mort's entry, despite on a basilisk hadn't been noted due to the magnitude of chaos already in Hogsmeade.

_"Bring down the trolls,"_ Mort hissed to Salarin. _"Petrify them."_

The serpent slithered around the alleys and winding paths of Hogsmeade with great speed, chasing the trolls and sending them crashing to the ground. When the basilisk slowed, Mort jumped out and said, _"Keep an eye on me but focus on the trolls first."_

"Expecto Patronum!" Mort shouted, sending a silver colored Nagini flying from his wand, striking a dementor from behind, stopping it from sucking the life out of its victim. "McGonagall!" Mort shouted on seeing the old witch. He ran to her and helped her to her feet. "Where is Emily?" he demanded.

"I - I -" she stammered and Mort lost patience.

"Legilimens!" he attacked her mind and sieved through her memories. She had been treating Emily to a butterbeer when the attack had happened. She had tried to get Emily out of the pub but a troll had brought down the wall between them and she had been pushed afar by the stampede of people trying to get to safety, leaving her young charge behind.

Mort turned around and ran towards the Three Broomsticks. He stopped with a gasp on reaching there. The entire building was razed to rubble. With quivering fingers, he started banishing the bricks and stones.

"Looking for something, Lord Apprentice?"

Mort jumped aside in shock and turned around to see Flint staring at him with a wand pointed at his chest.

"Crouch seized her," Flint said, to Mort's surprise, and he lowered his wand. "Stop this madness, Lord Apprentice."

"Huh?" Mort managed to utter in shock. "What? Why?"

"I see it now," said Flint. "The Dark Lord has lost control over his hounds. Pureblood Britain's very existence is at stake. I sent a patronus to the Malfoy heir but only you can save us now, Lord Apprentice."

Mort raised his head and a fire lit up in his eyes as he saw the belief in his former adversary's eyes. Perhaps all was not lost, if one such as Flint could turn his back on such madness. He nodded and said, "Take me to them," he slid his wand within his sleeves. "Tell them you overpowered me."

Within moments, Mort found himself being led to the middle of the battlefield between Death Eaters and the Order. There were several scores on either side and the crossfire ceased when Flint walked forward with Mort.

"Well done, Flint," shouted Rodolphus. "Not feeling so brave now, Lord Apprentice?" He managed to make Lord sound something as insulting as the dirt beneath his feet. "How did you manage to overpower him, Flint?"

"The fool was searching for a girl in the pub," said Flint casually. "I snuck up behind and disarmed him."

Rodolphus laughed and he was joined by his closest comrades - Rabastan, Crouch and Nott. Crouch had a struggling girl in his arms.

"MORT!" Emily yelled in distress. "MORT! HELP ME!"

The Death Eaters laughed even harder and Mort took a deep breath. He was biding his time and had to be absolutely certain that his sister didn't get hurt. It was then that he heard a wolf howling in the distance and he closed his eyes with a strange warmth in his chest. He recognized that howl. He opened his eyes and directed his gaze at Crouch. Everything else seemed to fade out of his vision and he hoped that somehow the timing would all work out miraculously in his favor.

"AARGH!" a Death Eater screamed from a far side and all eyes turned to see a crocodile pouncing on the Death Eaters with vehemence, even as a wolf attacked the line of the masked attackers from the other end. During this confusion, Mort's eyes were fixed on Crouch and he kicked the ground and leapt off as an eagle. Within seconds, he was on Crouch's face, and his claws struck hard. A popping sound followed by a scream later Mort descended and reverted to his human form. At the corner of his vision, he saw Crouch bent on the ground with his hands covering his right eye, but Mort put his arms around his little sister and kissed her head.

"You're safe, Emmy," he said as her grasp on him tightened. He saw Salarin joining the battle, having done with the trolls, and hissed, _"Petrify the masked men. Then feast on the trolls if you wish. Stay in the Forbidden Forest until I come to you. Do not hurt the unicorns or centaurs."_ He closed his eyes and apparated, taking Emily with him.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Mort opened his eyes and his vision was filled with the red hair of his sister who was clinging tightly to him. He patted her head and slowly pried her fingers off.

"You are safe now, Emmy," said Mort reassuringly, but the girl refused to let go. Sighing, Mort allowed her to stay like that and looked around him. He had apparated to just outside the wards of Hogwarts and he could see people rushing towards his direction. Knowing that he couldn't stay for too long, Mort quickly kissed Emily's forehead and said, "Emmy, there's something I have to tell you."

"I know," the girl suddenly spoke out, her expression clearing and a smile forming in her face. "You're my big brother Harry and you love me very much."

"How?" asked Mort in surprise, seeing their parents only a short distance away and having little desire for the confrontation that awaited him should he not be able to depart in time.

"_That would be my doing, little massster."_

Mort turned around and saw Nagini slither into sight and with mixed feelings of joy and confusion reached forward. But before he could reach the snake, to his surprise, his sister had already pounced on it.

"_Nagey!"_ she called out in parseltongue much to Mort's shock, and he looked from the snake to his sister in surprise before shaking his head.

"_We have some talking to do, Nagini,"_ hissed Mort urgently. "Emmy, I'll see you soon and we'll sort this out. Good bye, sis. Love you." He reached forward and squeezed her shoulder and ignoring Lily Potter's frantic shouts, he transformed into an eagle and soared to the skies.

From his high point of vantage, Mort flew back towards Hogsmeade and he wasn't sure how to react to the sight that met him. The Death Eaters were petrified and were being arrested by Aurors. On one hand, he had saved many innocent lives that ought not to have been taken but on the other, he had struck a definite blow to his own Master. Confused and uncertain of where to go, he flew above in circles.

He knew he didn't belong with Dumbledore and the Order of the Dragon. He knew he loved the Dark Lord as a father - but did he belong at his side with all the rest of his Death Eaters? Would he be accepted back, especially after what he had just done? The Dark Lord might forgive him for ruining yet another attack, as it was done without his knowledge, but would he be so lenient on finding out how many of his followers had been sent to Azkaban due to the involvement of his Apprentice.

'_Where do I belong?' _he thought to himself in confusion when his sharp eyes caught something in the ground. A wolf was running, following the progress of the eagle overhead, and Mort dived to the ground.

"Neville," he said with relief and joy as the wolf reached him and transformed into his adopted brother. They clasped each other's hands and Mort felt a surge of warmth within him. "I have never been so glad to see you."

"Draco's behind," said Neville as he panted for breath. "His form isn't quite meant for chasing eagles and wolves." He grinned but the seriousness in Mort's face made his grin falter. "Did we not do the right thing?" he asked uncertainly. "We knew you would find some way to get to the battle and we wanted to be there for you."

Mort shook his head and clasped Neville's shoulder. "Thanks," he said. "All the Death Eaters have been apprehended by Aurors. Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord will do -" he paused as he saw the ramifications of their actions come crushing on Neville. Then, with a tone of finality, he said heavily, "We can't go back."

"What!" Neville yelled. "But - but you always get away after doing such things. Sure, the Dark Lord will be angry and he'll punish us and then everything will be back to normal and -"

"Neville," interrupted Mort firmly. "Do you not understand? We can no longer be trusted. The Death Eaters will never accept us again and if the Dark Lord lets us live, he'll face a mass rebellion unlike any before. He would have to choose between us and the Death Eaters."

"B-But then surely," stammered Neville, "surely, he'll choose you, his apprentice, wouldn't he?"

Mort closed his eyes and shuddered. The memory of his Boggart returned to his mind and he forced himself to open his eyes. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "But more importantly, I don't want to know. Neville, I can't go back to the Dark Lord. I can't bear the thought of seeing the disappointment in his face. I can't, I just can't."

Neville started. The desperation and childlike fear on his friend's voice was something he had never witnessed before. He took a deep breath and asked, "Will you go back to Hogwarts?"

Mort turned his eyes to the ground. His brows were furrowed in deep thought and in the distance he saw Draco arriving on a broom. He raised his hand to wave in a lackluster manner as he turned to Neville. "Only to find Ginny. I promised to take her with me."

"And after that?"

"After what?" asked Draco as he joined them, quickly assessing the seriousness of the situation.

"Mort is leaving the Dark Lord," said Neville. Seeing the horror in Draco's face, he quickly added, "He's not betraying him. Draco, we must consider our situation as well. We ran into battle like idiots, not at all thinking of the consequences. Will your father be able to save you from the Dark Lord's wrath after he finds out the part we played in sending nearly a hundred of his followers to Azkaban?"

Draco frowned and, to the surprise of the others, smiled in what appeared to be clear relief. "I am with you, Mort," he said. Pausing for a moment, he added, "But you'll have to put up with Cho as well." He explained, "I love her and she will have nothing to do with the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord."

Mort smiled. "Good on you, Draco." He frowned thoughtfully and said, "Hogwarts is not an option if only for the fact that my true identity is out."

"What true identity?" asked Neville sharply, knowing full well Mort didn't mean his identity as the Apprentice.

Mort took a deep breath and said, "Do you remember that day in Diagon Alley when I told you I had a secret that I wasn't ready to reveal?"

Neville nodded.

"It was at that very spot that the Dark Lord stood while directing an attack on Diagon Alley," said Mort. "In that attack, a young boy was abandoned by his family who had decided his brother's safety was of greater importance, he ran wildly to the only spot in the alley which was left alone by Death Eaters and Aurors alike and found himself in the company of the Dark Lord."

"You!" exclaimed Draco in surprise. "What parents would be so heartless as to leave their son behind at such a time?"

"The Potters," whispered Neville. "Jake Potter's twin brother died at the hands of the Dark Lord during an attack on Diagon Alley." He looked at Mort and said, "It's you, isn't it? You're him - Henry? Harold?"

"Harry Potter," corrected Mort. "But that is no longer my name."

"Of course it isn't," said Neville firmly. "You're my brother - Mortimer Riddle, and Draco is our best friend. You belong with us."

"And where do _you_ belong, _son_?" came a sharp voice from behind them and all three boys jumped.

Mort swallowed as he saw an ominous sight before him. The Dark Lord was standing with blazing eyes, full of anger and, at the same time, sorrow. On either side of him stood Lucius Malfoy and Bella, both with identical looks of fury and disappointment. It was Bella who had spoken.

"Explain yourself, Draco," snapped Lucius angrily. "Have you lost your faculties that you directly brought the destruction of everything your father has worked for? Whatever possessed you to go to Hogsmeade?"

"It was the right thing to do," Draco managed to breathe out. "Father, can you not see the madness -"

"Crucio!" Lucius Malfoy interrupted his son's explanation. He released the curse after merely a few seconds. "That is not a satisfactory explanation. You directly opposed the Dark Lord's forces in a battle that led to nearly a hundred of them getting arrested. You committed an act of such foolishness and stupidity that it shames me to call you son." He turned his face and looked at a rock on the ground near Draco. "Get up and get ready to go home. I will deal with you later."

"No," said Draco slowly.

"What did you say?" snapped Lucius in disbelief.

"He said no," said Neville, walking near Draco and giving him a hand.

"You, Neville, are in a great deal of trouble yourself!" snapped Bella. "Don't make it worse. Apologize to Lord Malfoy and come here."

"They said no," Mort retorted and he joined his friends. Together, he and Neville helped Draco up. "I apologize, Master, if I disappoint you, but I can no longer hold myself in alliance with your Death Eaters, not after what they nearly did to my sister."

"So be it," hissed the Dark Lord and he turned around. "The next time I see your face, Apprentice, it will be as adversaries in battle. Lucius, Bella, leave them be." For a moment, his voice quivered but then he said with icy resolve. "They are lost to us." He took a few steps before disapparating.

Lucius Malfoy looked torn for a second as he glanced at the defiant face of his son. "I wish I had the strength to make the same choice as the three of you," he muttered and he followed after his master.

Finally, it was just the three boys and Bella left. For a long time, it appeared that she wouldn't make any movement. After several long moments, she walked to Neville with tearful eyes and touched his cheek. She looked at Mort and Draco and managed a sad smile. "Stay safe." And then she left as well.

"No matter what he thinks, I will not stand against the Dark Lord," Mort said resolutely. "I will not raise a finger against him."

"Nor will I before Bella," said Neville sorrowfully as he sat down on a rock. He looked at Draco and asked, "Are you all right, Draco?"

Draco seemed to be stunned. Slowly, he said, "He left. Just like that. He left."

"And it is time we think of leaving too," said Mort, hiding his own hurt that his Master would abandon him so easily. "I made a promise to Ginny and I have to go to Hogwarts."

Neville looked at Mort and nodded. "I'll look after Draco. We'll get Cho and - where should we meet?"

"Earlier I was thinking of the Forbidden Forest," said Mort uncertainly, "as it is currently under the dominion of a basilisk. But with my opposition to the Dark Lord, I'm not sure whose side the serpent would take if it ever comes down to it."

"Wise decision," muttered Neville. "Best not leave things to chance when there's a basilisk involved."

"Godric's Hollow!" Mort said suddenly. "The Potters are currently staying in Hogwarts and the Hollow's wards ought to let me in. Let's meet at Godric's Hollow and make further plans from there."

--

Mort stood outside the wards of Hogwarts, far away from the crowd and altered his appearance. Once again, it was Ron Weasley whose form he took as he wandered in. Taking caution to stay in the shadows so as to not arouse any suspicion, he made his way through several Order members and Aurors and the injured from the battle, until he finally came across a familiar face.

"There you are, Ron," said Bill, grabbing Mort's shoulder. "I thought I told you to give mum a hand with Ginny."

"What about Ginny?" blurted out Mort before he could help himself.

Bill looked strangely at Mort for a moment before shaking his head. "Any slower and I swear you'll be going backwards. Come with me." He led Mort through a long passage and continued speaking. "Mum won't allow Ginny to join the Dark Lord. She's keeping her sedated in the Hospital Wing. You were supposed to relieve her half an hour ago and not run off to play soldier with the Aurors."

"Sorry," was the best Mort could manage.

"Just make sure you look after her," said Bill. "She's very angry with everyone and believes that the Apprentice will come back for her."

"Do you think he will?" asked Mort suddenly, trying to fish for information. "The castle must surely be warded against him?"

"Unfortunately, no," said Bill. "Mrs. Potter wouldn't allow it."

"Why?"

"You're inquisitive today, aren't you?" muttered Bill. "Listen," said Bill urgently, pulling Mort to a corner. "Ron never asks logical questions. Just move around with a blank expression on your face and randomly yell about 'that no good scum' and you'll be fine, Lord Apprentice. Make sure you look after her. Despite what everyone else thinks, my sister is precious to me."

Mort gaped open mouthed at Bill.

"Much better," said Bill with a smirk and he walked away.

Shaking his head, Mort brushed aside all thoughts of the treacherous spy and entered the Hospital Wing. He saw Ginny's mother sitting at a bed beside her daughter who was lying with her eyes closed. Next to her on a bedside table were several vials of potion.

"There you are, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley in relief. "Be a dear and sit with your sister. If she stirs or shows any sign of waking up, push a few drops of the potion in her mouth."

Mort hid his anger and asked, "How long do you intend to keep her this way?" Suddenly noticing the curious look on Mrs. Weasley's eyes, he flared his nostrils and said, "You should let me fight. I'll get that no good scum in no time and there won't be any need to baby sit Ginny all the time."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and patted Mort's head. "How sweet of you to be so protective of your sister. Don't worry about it, Ron. Professor Dumbledore believes now is the best time to invade You Know Who's stronghold and defeat him for good. Everything will be peaceful once You Know Who is defeated."

Mort froze for a moment and he warily watched Mrs. Weasley leave the room. He then quickly rushed to Ginny's side and touched her fingers. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he muttered. "Please wake up soon, Ginny." But when she showed no signs of moving, Mort sighed and sat down on the chair next to her. He would need her to be fully capable of movement before attempting to escape. And there was nothing he could do but wait until she woke up. Hopefully, he would be left alone until then.

"Ronald," came a voice, shattering all hopes of being left alone in Mort's mind. "I thought I told you to get some training."

Mort looked up and saw Alastor Moody frown at him. He hesitated before answering, "Bill found me and told me to come here."

"Did he?" muttered Alastor as he sat down. "Now that brother of yours, sometimes I still wonder where his allegiance truly lies. That's the problem with spying - once your loyalties are suspect, you can never be certain."

"But he did capture the Apprentice," Mort replied, and added for good measure, "that no good scum."

"That he did," Moody conceded. Sighing, he said, "Pity that Sectumsempra spell didn't achieve its goal. Come out as soon as your mother gets here. We storm the Dark Lord's stronghold in a few hours."

Mort forced himself not to glare as Moody walked out, fully aware that his magical eye could see even when his head was facing away. But the moment he left, Mort fumed with anger. It was Moody and Ron Weasley who had nearly murdered him - or at least, one of them. He took a deep breath and steadied his emotions when he heard the door opening yet again.

"Hey Ron," said Hermione as she walked in with Lily Potter and Emily. Mort nearly cringed at seeing the Potters but managed not to. Instead, he merely nodded.

He observed Lily sitting down on a bed with Emily while Hermione quickly prepared a potion for her. Looking at the ingredients, he could make out it would be a mild headache potion.

"That's for Emily," said Hermione, passing the potion to Lily. "I'll make a stronger one for you, Mrs. Potter."

"Thanks, Hermione," said Lily as she fed the potion to her daughter. She looked at Mort expressionlessly and Mort could see from her puffed up eyes that she had been crying recently.

"How are you holding up, Emily?" asked Mort, unable to hold back.

Emily glared at Mort, thinking he was Ron, and climbed on the bed behind her mother. Then she looked at Lily and innocently asked, "How's Mort?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," said Lily sadly. "And his name's Harry."

"Mort!" Emily cut in adamantly. "His name's Mort."

"Okay, Mort then," said Lily tiredly. Sighing, she leaned against her daughter. "I wish I could speak to him once more." She wiped her eyes, which had dampened again. "Just once more, and then if he didn't want to see me again, I'd leave him alone."

Mort looked away from her and at Ginny's face and asked, "What would you tell him, Mrs. Potter, if you could?"

"That not a day goes by when I don't think of him and regret everything," said Lily, more to herself than to anyone else. "That if I could turn back time, I'd never let him out of my sight for a single moment. That - that despite how I acted and what he might have thought, I loved him so much." She stirred suddenly and turned to Hermione. "Is it ready?"

"Yes," said Hermione slowly, passing the potion to Lily.

Mort observed Lily gulp down the potion and taking her daughter's hand, walked out of the Hospital Wing. He was about to turn back to Ginny as if nothing had happened when suddenly, to his surprise, Hermione took out her wand and pointed at him.

"Mort?" she asked.

Mort gulped and reverted to his usual form. "Please Hermione," he pleaded. "I promised Ginny." Frowning, he blurted out, "Do I make such a terrible Ron?"

Hermione chuckled, lowering her wand. "You have no idea." Shaking her head, she walked closer to him and gently hugged him. "How are _you_ holding up, dear? Somehow Bill managed to find out about your rift with your master and relayed the news to the Order."

"I'm fine," Mort muttered, again confused whose side Bill truly was on. "At least, I will be when she," he looked at Ginny, "wakes up and tells me she doesn't hate me for keeping such a big secret from her."

"She doesn't," said Hermione. "But where will you go from here?"

Mort sat down in thought. "I don't know. I'm meeting Neville, Draco and Cho and then -"

"Neville's going with you?" asked Hermione suddenly, her eyes lighting up instantly. "That's that then. Come on, let's get Ginny out of bed."

"Hermione?" asked Mort in confusion.

"She's not getting up for at least an hour, Mort," said Hermione. "You can't tell how long you'll have before someone else comes in. You'll have to escape now and I'm going to help you."

Mort looked at Hermione for a second and then he grinned. "You're a great friend, Hermione." He reached forward and kissed Ginny's forehead and gently raised her.

"Transform into someone whom nobody would know and could pass as an Auror," Hermione ordered. "I've got a plan." She rushed to a corner and got a wheelchair. "Here, gently," she gave a hand to Mort and together they placed Ginny on the wheelchair. Then Hermione brought a lot of bandages and plastered them on Ginny's face and hair - until nobody could recognize her to be a Weasley at all. "Excellent," said Hermione with a grin. "She'll pass as one of the severely injured people from Hogsmeade now. And she sure does act as one."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're absolutely brilliant, Hermione?" said Mort.

Hermione reddened slightly and then pushed the wheelchair out of the Hospital Wing. The moment they saw someone, she hurriedly said, "Lead me to the patient's family, Auror Lennon."

"Follow me," said Mort, playing his part and quickly rushed through the corridors, ignoring a group of other Aurors led by James Potter who were standing by.

They maneuvered their way through the various corridors of Hogwarts and reached a side exit. "Mort," whispered Hermione. "How are we going to leave once we get out of the wards?"

"Apparition," said Mort. "Do you know where Godric's Hollow is?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "The Potters often invited me for Christmas. Good plan, that will be the last place they'll think to search for you." Frowning, she added, "Can you do side-along? I am not terribly good at it."

"Leave that to me," said Mort. He was about to say something else when other voices interrupted him.

"There they are!" "Catch them!" "Traitors!"

Mort took his wand out, reverting back to his usual form, and hissed angrily, _"Serpensaura!"_ He watched for a moment at his pursuers - Aurors and Order members - as they were trapped by the foul vapors - before hissing again, _"Serpensortia Maximus!"_ When several large snakes appeared, he gave them orders urgently. _"Distract all who pursue us."_ He saw Lily Potter coming behind as well and added, _"Do not hurt the woman."_

"Harry, please," she was shouting desperately. "Harry - Mort - please, wait. Please -"

For a moment, Mort faltered, but taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and looked in the direction where Hermione had crossed the wards and ran. On reaching her side, he grabbed hold of Ginny in his arms, and nodded at Hermione. "See you at the Hollow."

The reunion at Godric's Hollow was joyful. To Mort's surprise, his friends weren't there alone. Severus Snape had joined them, finally deciding to choose Mort over the Dark Lord openly. They had exchanged a nod, communicating the reasoning behind their decision without words. Hermione and Neville were sitting in one corner of the living room and in each other's embrace, while Cho kept a distance from Mort, still uncomfortable with his presence and Draco stayed with her. As Ginny was still sleeping, Mort was left alone with the former spy.

"I'm glad you saved your sister," said Severus Snape. "But the revelation of your true identity has created quite a stir. Lily and James were shocked into inaction throughout the entire battle at Hogsmeade, the Order, for the most part, is unsure how to react, Dumbledore himself seems quite flummoxed. Through it all, it was only Miss Weasley who managed to take the news in her stride."

"That's because I love that idiot," said Ginny weakly with a groan, and Mort turned to her with a delightful smile. Without saying anything, he took her into a comforting embrace and held her close to him.

Even while holding Ginny, Mort turned his eyes to his mentor. "And you, Severus? How did you take the revelation?"

"It was surprising yet," Severus paused for a moment, "oddly fitting." At Mort's curious gaze, he explained, "The only person who ever befriended me during my Hogwarts year was Lily Evans. It seemed fitting that I come to care for her son as my own."

Mort allowed Ginny to wipe the dampness from his eyes and they remained silent for a few seconds.

"I should give you some privacy," said Severus. "The Headmaster will storm Riddle Manor in two hours. You have time to think what you wish to do. I will come back half an hour before the attack is due."

Mort looked gratefully at Severus and then he turned to Ginny. "Hey," he said. So much had happened since he had last spoken to her properly. And there was much more to come shortly, but he would savor every moment he could get with her.

"Hey you," said Ginny with a mischievous smile. Looking around, she said, "This seems to be a big house. Shall we find a more private room for ourselves?"

Mort grinned at her sudden chirpiness and found his spirits soaring at the sight of her smile. Without thinking, he allowed himself to be led upstairs by the redhead.

"So, Mr. Mortimer," said Ginny cheekily. "Is there any other big secret you're hiding from me?"

Mort paused but the reassuring smile on Ginny's face eased his nerves and he replied back, "Yes. The biggest one."

"Oh, and what might that be?"

Mort took Ginny's hand and brought her closer to him. Reaching forward, he kissed her, letting out his retrained desires and savoring her passionately. When he pulled out and saw Ginny's slightly dazed eyes, he said, "The secret's that I love you, Miss Weasley. I love you more than anyone or anything in this entire universe."

"Oh Mort," said Ginny, with mock disappointment. "That's not really a secret, is it?" But she reached forward and nuzzled against his cheek.

"Let's go inside this room and -" Mort froze. In his hurry to spend time with Ginny, he had nearly forgotten where he was. Inadvertently, he had stepped into the very room where he used to sleep as a child. His face paled and he appeared as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Merlin," Ginny breathed out on seeing a sign made by a child that said 'Harry's Room' and grabbed Mort's fingers.

In front of them, the room appeared as if it hadn't been used for years but was still very well maintained. But they could see two things that could only be massive changes from the past. In one corner, in two piles lay wrapped boxes - dozens of them. Ginny walked closer to them and said, "This one is for Christmas… and the other… the other is for Birthday… Oh Mort," she said woefully, hugging the boy.

The other thing was a pensieve that lay on the bed. It was there that Mort's attention was fixed. He looked at Ginny and said, "Will you see with me?"

"If you want me to," she replied, tightening her grasp on his hand.

Together, they walked to the pensieve and entered it to witness the memories contained within. Mort squirmed uneasily but managed to steady himself under the reassuring presence and touch of Ginny's hands.

The first memory they saw was of James playing with Jake in the living room while Harry Potter watched longingly from his place on a couch, drawing on a piece of paper while stealing glances at his father and brother. After he was done, he took his finished work to his father, who replied in a slightly harsh manner, "Not now, Harry. Can't you see I'm busy with your brother?" James turned to Jake and said, "Race you out to the garden, sport." And they both ran away.

Ginny gasped at the hurt in Harry's eyes as he turned around and scribbled something on the paper before crumpling it and throwing it to a side. Then, he ran upstairs.

"This wasn't such a good idea," muttered Mort next to her and made as if to leave, but Ginny held him back.

"No," she said firmly. "I want to see." She touched his cheek and said, "Please let me see."

Before Mort could reply, his attention was distracted at the sight of a younger and livelier version of his mother, who picked up the drawing and looked at it for several seconds before sighing sadly.

"It was very good as it was, Harry," she whispered to herself, clutching the sheet of paper to her heart. Ginny moved forward to have a look at the drawing and she sighed. It was a picture titled 'The Potters' and had four people drawn with labels of their names next to it. Except that the final figure labeled 'Harry' had been furiously scribbled on. Lily picked up an eraser from the ground and rubbed the lines Harry had made over his image. "I'm sorry," she said sadly. The memory followed Lily Potter walking up to her room and opening a drawer to place the paper in.

Then the memory changed and an older and frailer Lily Potter observed from outside as a young Emily sneaked towards the drawer and opened it. "What is in here that makes mum cry all the time?" she muttered as she removed the drawing and frowned over it. Suddenly, she blurted out, "But where's me? Where's Mort?" Then she saw her mother standing by the door with a tearful face.

She walked to her daughter and gave her a pencil from the drawer. "Do you want to draw in yourself and Mort, Emily?"

By then, Mort was beginning to wipe tears from his eyes, and the memory changed. It moved from scene to scene of neglect and hurt that Mort had experienced in the few tender years of his life he had spent with the Potters, but now he saw it from a different perspective - of Lily Potter, and occasionally James, on how they were affected as they neglected him. By the tenth such memory, it was clear to Mort that his parents had loved him as well as his father's two closest friends - Sirius Black and Remus Lupin - but they had still decided that Dumbledore knew best and went along with his instructions.

"They are to blame as well," said Ginny, from beside him. "But you mustn't forget that they were hurt as well."

Suddenly, Mort turned to Ginny and with wide eyes full of confusion, grief and longing, asked, "Where do I belong?"

Without hesitation, Ginny laughed sadly and hit his head playfully. "With me, of course." She leaned forward and when their lips were inches apart, she said, "No matter who you are - Mortimer, the Dark Apprentice or Harry Potter - I love you and you belong at my side, my Dark Prince, as I belong at your side."

Mort grabbed her shoulder and pulled her closer, plugging the gap and kissing her. For several minutes, they stayed inside the pensieve, completely oblivious to the memories as they merged as one.

After some time, Mort opened his eyes and gasped. The memory had changed. He was seeing, in front of him, his mother with a kitchen knife placed horizontally against her wrists. Tearing from Ginny, he leaped forward as if to stop her, forgetting it was a mere memory, and moved through the holographic image of Lily Potter slicing her veins. As if in a trance, he saw how James rushed to her in a frantic and called St. Mungo's. In a daze, he discovered through the conversations that followed that Lily had tried to kill herself the day after he was supposed to have been killed by the Dark Lord, blaming herself for having left him behind.

Mort turned to Ginny, who had tears in her eyes as well. He said, "Why did she listen to Albus Dumbledore? Why?"

Ginny had no answer to that. She walked towards Mort and hugged him as he crouched in the floor. She pulled him out of the pensieve and back to the room. The rest of them had come to the room as well and Ginny glared at them, sending a message without words to leave them alone.

"Dumbledore," Mort finally growled in a deep rumble. He wiped his eyes and glared vacantly ahead, his eyes full of fury. He pried Ginny's hands off and took a step towards the window. Then, his complete demeanor changed and he turned to Neville and Draco. "Dumbledore's going to attack Riddle Manor."

Draco's mouth fell while Neville frowned. Both looked at each other and then at Mort.

"We have to go and help," said Neville as if it was the most obvious thing he could think of.

"Will they let us?" asked Draco, voicing Mort's own questions. "Will they trust us?"

"Does it matter?" yelled Neville. "We were more than ready to go and help those in Hogsmeade, people who hate us and would sooner see us in Azkaban. Then why can't we go and help those who raised us and taught us all we know? Who loved us as we love them?" He turned to Mort.

Mort hesitated. He closed his eyes and cleared his emotions. It took longer than he was used to and not until Ginny grabbed his hand did he finally manage to control himself. "We need a plan." He turned to Hermione. "You're the cleverest among us. Severus will be here soon and he knows Dumbledore's plans better than any of us. I want you two to make a plan while," he turned to Draco and Neville, "you two gather as many of the Death Eaters who are still out and we can trust."

"There won't be enough," said Draco. "There are too few who are left who would listen to us. Maybe if they knew the Dark Apprentice was back -"

"Use my name as you wish," said Mort dismissively. "But I have other business to attend to." He turned to Ginny and said, "Where I go, it will be dangerous and the chances of survival is small and -"

"Shut up, Mort," said Ginny irritably. In a fonder voice, she added, "I'm coming with you."

Mort smiled. He was relieved and it showed on his face. "I am glad," he said, "because I need you by my side. Now and always."

"And don't you forget it!" Ginny exclaimed, punching Mort's side. "But where are we going?"

"To the Forbidden Forest, my love," said Mort. "To raise an army for the Dark Prince."


End file.
